


Beauty and the Breast

by Ryxl



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Implied Incest, Implied Underage, Minor Injuries, Multi, Nudity, Touga's ego, Violence, just about everyone - Freeform, no singing, who let me write this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 46,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryxl/pseuds/Ryxl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The idea for this came from silver stripes's 'The Princess & The Playboy' which, unfortunately, failed to live up to my hopes. In a sugar-induced gigglefit, I had the idea to take the premise of 'Beauty and the Beast, only instead of a Beast it's a Playboy and his castle is the one above the dueling arena' and run with it, and my friends refused to talk me out of it. In fact, they encouraged me. So if you think I'm doing horrible things to either Disney's 'Beauty and the Beast' or to the Utena anime, blame them. I did my best to keep the plot and dialogue elements accurate to the Disney movie while keeping characters and motivations accurate to the anime. Seriously, who let me write this? Rating for just about everything in SKU except the Akio car. Oh, and there will be no gratuitous singing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time, in the faraway school of Ohtori, a would-be prince lived in a glorious mansion. Although he had a loving family and was charming and handsome, he was also shallow, pretentious, and vain. His heart was hollow, his soul a barren wasteland, and his only delight came from shattering the dreams of those who still had them, for his own dreams had been shattered long ago.

One sultry evening, an older man approached him and offered him a single black rose if he would help the older man in his quest for eternity. The false prince laughed at the older man's dream and rejected his black rose, but the man begged him not to turn away and confessed his love. At that, the false prince seemed to change his tune and took the older man to bed – only to spurn him the next day and deride both dreams and love. Angered and broken-hearted, the older man's age melted away to reveal a handsome young man with soft pink hair. The would-be prince was intrigued by the pink-haired man and tried to lay on the charm, but it was too late, for he had seen that here was no love in the false prince's heart, and no dreams flourished there.

As vengeance, the pink-haired man stabbed the false prince with the black rose and cast a spell upon him. The bespelled prince stole the Rose Bride and sealed her within a glass coffin in the Castle Where Eternity Dwells. Once the Rose Bride was sealed away, the rest of the curse bloomed. "You will forever be bound to this castle," the pink-haired man said, "with only the company of those whom you have seduced but felt no love for." The false prince smirked, not seeing this as a punishment. "You will remain here, a heartless bastard of a playboy, until-"

"-I find a girl who loves me despite all this?"

"No," the pink-haired man said with a scowl. "Until you find a girl who doesn't fall for your act. A girl who you cannot seduce. And then my true vengeance will begin, for you will fall in love with her, but she will not return your affection until you learn the value of dreams."

The months passed, and the acting chairman of Ohtori sent girls – and guys – to the Castle Where Eternity Dwells in attempts to free the Playboy (and retrieve the Rose Bride), but each and every one of them fell to the Playboy's charms and joined the castle staff. And the Playboy was content with his castle and his captive harem, until one day someone new came to the castle…


	2. Wakaba has a secret

It had only been a month and a half since Utena had transferred to Ohtori Academy, but already she felt as if it had been forever. Every building, every walkway was as familiar to her as the ring on her left hand, the ring her Prince had given her. “This ring will lead you to me,” he had said as he kissed away her tears, and seeing the stylized rose everywhere in the school filled her with conviction that he was here, somewhere – she just had to find him. Until she did, she would continue wearing the red-and-black uniform that had caused such a stir her first day. It might have gone easier if she’d explained her true reason to the teachers, but experience had taught her that ‘I have to be a Prince so I can rescue this girl I saw in a dream’ didn’t go down very well in the academic community. 

On this perfectly normal day, Utena was eating lunch on the lawn with her best friend and roommate, Wakaba. The cheerful brunette had once again prepared a lunch that was as much an exuberant declaration of love as it was a meal. Utena didn’t mind; she knew Wakaba wasn’t really serious, only practicing for the day when she’d have a prince of her own to cook for. Utena was sure her friend had someone specific in mind, and worried slightly that Wakaba seemed to be deliberately ignoring this unknown guy in favor of playing make-believe with her. Right now, Wakaba was cheerfully sharing all the latest gossip without seeming to stop for breath.

“…and another student has disappeared! You remember Keiko, the head of Nanami’s little clique? No one’s seen her since the day before yesterday, and the Acting Student Council President is practically frothing at the mouth!”

Utena nodded, vaguely remembering the slightly psychotic blonde in the glaring yellow uniform who was acting in her brother’s absence. No one was quite sure what exactly ailed Student Council President Touga Kiryuu, but his younger sister never failed to remind everyone that she was stepping into his role until he returned. There were mutters, of course, but as the rest of the Student Council wasn’t objecting, no one else could either.

Wakaba peered around in an obviously paranoid manner, then leaned closer to Utena. “I’ll tell you a secret, though – I know where Keiko went!”

“You do?”

“Shhhh! Keep it down!” The brunette craned her head around again to make sure no one was within earshot. “I saw her walk into the forest on the edge of school grounds at dusk the day before yesterday.”

As if Utena wasn’t surprised enough already. “Wakaba, what were you doing following her?”

“I wasn’t following _her_ ,” the other girl protested. “I was- um…”

“Who _were_ you following?” Utena asked with a teasing grin. Maybe this time, her friend would let slip who her prince was.

“Nooo oooone….”

With how badly Wakaba was blushing, Utena didn’t buy that at all. The shy-but-sly tapping her forefingers were doing didn’t help much. “Okay, so you just _happened_ to see Keiko enter the forest. The same forest that students are forbidden to enter. The one whose entrance is a strangely carved block of stone with a handle in the middle. That forest?”

Wakaba nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Utena leaned closer to her friend, chin on one fist, elbow propped on her knee. “…and how did she manage to get in?”

“She just pulled the handle, and a bunch of water came pouring down. I couldn’t see what happened, but there was a sound like stone grinding and when the water stopped, the stone was exactly the way it had been and Keiko was gone. I tried the handle myself, but nothing happened.”

“You should stay away from the forest,” Utena said, concerned at the eager look on her friend’s face. “You know only Student Council members are allowed in there.”

“I know.” Wakaba did not look wary at all. In fact, she was tapping the tips of her forefingers together again. “Hey, have you heard the rumors about why students aren’t allowed in?” Utena shook her head, and Wakaba gasped in surprise. “You _haven’t_? Utena, how could you have not heard a single one? All the rumors say that something’s trapped in there, but no one knows exactly what, and the Student Council’s not saying. I’ve heard some people say it’s a horrible monster who’ll eat your heart, while others say it’s just some spoiled rich playboy who’ll break it. Some of the guys whisper that it’s a beautiful princess, while the girls tell each other it’s a handsome prince.”

“Oh? And what do you think it is, Wakaba?”

Engrossed by her fingertips tapping together, Wakaba didn’t answer. Utena sighed.

“Look, just don’t get yourself in trouble, okay? I’ve got basketball after class so I’ll be back late. I’ll see you back at the dorm tonight, and as always, thanks for the lunch – although you really should be giving it to the boy you like.”

Normally, that last teasing comment evoked a playful protest about Utena being the only one for Wakaba. Today, however, Wakaba just blushed a little deeper and nodded. Slightly unnerved by this break in the routine, Utena picked a few adventurous leaves out of her hip-length pink hair and set off for her afternoon classes.

            *********************************************************

“I’m back!”

Silence and the deepening dusk seen through the window greeted Utena. Perplexed, she went about her evening routine. Tea. Homework. Post-homework cookie. Swapping school uniform for pajamas. After that, however, she faltered to a stop. Where was Wakaba? There was no note, nothing to indicate where the other girl had gone, except…

Utena examined the dorm room’s tiny kitchen alcove like a detective searching the scene of a crime. Was the rice bag just a little bit emptier than it had been this morning? Hadn’t there been just a few more shrimp in the fridge, and an even number of eggs? A thought struck as she returned the egg carton to the fridge. It didn’t take more than a second to check the cabinet and confirm that the lunchbox was gone.

A second cup of tea cooling on the table before her, Utena tried to think of where her roommate might have gone that would keep her out this late. By the time the tea was cold, night had settled in and she had just about convinced herself that Wakaba was out on a secret date with her prince. Smiling at that thought, Utena tidied the room and locked the door. No doubt Wakaba would come back past midnight, flushed with happiness and giggling, and Utena would wake up to hear the story. The pink-haired girl crawled into the lower bunk and fell asleep easily, certain in the knowledge that her friend was finally meeting her prince.

Morning came as a rude shock.

No longer certain of Wakaba’s fate, Utena dressed hurriedly and was out the door in minutes, too impatient for even the toast that was her usual breakfast unless Wakaba cooked. She sprinted to the campus, weaving her way through the morning flow, fleet from running track and agile from playing basketball, ignoring the morning chorus from her female classmates and the casual greetings from the boys, eyes scanning for the unique white jackets that would be worn by one of the Student Council. After the first few students vanished, Vice President Saionji had announced that all disappearances should be reported as soon as possible. Naturally, this was before Nanami had gotten it into her head to take over for her brother. Nanami didn’t care about missing students unless they were some of her willing servants.

There! Forest green on white! That was Saionji. Utena ducked and wove through the crowd, catching up to her target as he was about to enter the building that housed the Student Council’s exclusive meetings.

“Mister Vice President!”

Saionji turned towards the source of interruption, clearly irritated. “Yes? What do you want? Spit it out.”

Utena leaned against the door for a moment, catching her breath and preventing the green-haired boy from escaping. “I’m reporting a disappearance. My roommate, Wakaba. She never came back to the room last night.”

“And what do you want _me_ to do about it?” Saionji snapped, trying to open the door and glaring at Utena’s left hand holding it shut. “Oh. I see,” he said snidely, “you’re obviously quite concerned. Very well then, go to the forest if you want to try your luck.”

“And how am I supposed to get in?” Utena demanded, not happy at all with the Vice President’s attitude.

He glared at her, all disdain and superiority. “The ring, of course. Don’t you know _anything?”_ He held up his own left hand, displaying a ring identical to the one on Utena’s.

Shocked, Utena pulled her hand off the door to make sure her ring was still there. It was, but Saionji had taken the opportunity to slip inside the building and she was alone.

            **************************************************************

_What kind of forest needs a gate?_ Utena wondered, staring at the carved stone and the single protrusion that didn’t look like any door handle she’d ever seen. How was she supposed to use a ring to open this? _Well, Wakaba said that Keiko just pulled the handle, so…here goes nothing._

The handle gave under her left hand when tugged, but just slightly, and a drop of cold water shot out to splash against the rose-crested ring. Behind her, water started pouring down – but when she looked, she could find no trace of where it was pouring from. The sound of stones moving against one another drew her attention back to the gate, which had somehow shifted its pieces so that not only was the way open, but the carvings formed a rose.

Utena passed beneath the rose, and into the forest. The path was easy to follow, seeing as it was neatly paved with blocks of white stone and lined with carved posts that must hold lanterns at night. The giant spiral staircase curling around some kind of post was more confusing – was she supposed to climb that? It would take hours! And where did it even lead? The top was hidden in the mist that hovered above the tops of the trees. Try as she might, Utena could not remember seeing a staircase poking out of the top of the forest, much less where it would lead to. She was so absorbed by trying to figure out what lay at the top of the staircase that she nearly bumped into the bottom of it.

What was she doing? Was she really going to climb this crazy staircase in the middle of a forest reputed to contain either a monster, a playboy, a princess, or a prince? What was she _doing_ here?

Utena put one foot on the first step, lifted herself up, placed her other foot on the second step.

She was going to find her friend.


	3. Stairmaster Purgatory

Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right food....foot. Foot. Thing on the end of her leg of lamb. No! Not lamb! Just her leg. Her turkey leg, with gravy and mashed potatoes...no! Utena shook her head, trying to chase away thoughts of food. Without a watch, she had no way of estimating how long she'd been climbing. The sun was no help, it just turned the mist into a shimmering opalescent sea that was lovely but cast no shadows. Not that she'd be able to use her shadow to tell if it was after noon; somewhere along the way she'd lost track of where the entrance path was and she'd long since gotten too high up to be comfortable anywhere near the edge of the stairs - either inside or outside. Whatever hollow, cagelike shaft the staircase wound around, it did not actually touch. Stairs and central shaft remained a good twelve feet away from each other, further than Utena was confident she could leap if she lost her balance. So she walked in circles, never sure how far up she was aside from 'high', never knowing if the next curve would bring her to the top, or if she'd entered some kind of Stairmaster purgatory.

A moment of lightheadedness caused Utena to sit hastily, hands gripping the stairs behind her, eyes shut tight. If she'd known how long she would be climbing, she would have stopped for lunch first, and brought a bottle of water with her. And maybe a pack mule with a week's worth of provisions and a water keg. The blood rushed in her ears, sounding for a moment like something was rattling up the cage-shaft, but when she opened her eyes, there was nothing there. With a sigh, Utena lurched carefully to her feet and continued climbing. Her body gave up on hunger, and concentrated instead on thirst. Images of cool drinks assaulted her mind, everything cold she'd ever drunk dancing before her blurring eyes. When that failed to motivate her to go back down the stairs like a sane person, her mind switched to streams, lakes, even swimming pools and that mysterious waterfall triggered by the gate to the forest. Utena kept climbing, determination wearing down until she was mechanically setting one foot in front of the other and climbing in a daze.

When she tripped, there was a moment of panic at being about to fall to her death, followed by a moment of relief that the climb was over, and then shame at failing her friend Wakaba by dying like this. And buried deeper, an apology to the nightmare-girl from so long ago, the one she was trying to be a prince to rescue. Then she opened her eyes to meet her fate, and had just enough time to bring her arms up to protect her face before she fell flat on the hard flagstones of...wherever she was. She lay there for several minutes, catching her breath, before looking around. There wasn't much to see - a broad expanse of stone surrounded by a low crenellated wall. After that hellish climb, Utena was sorely disappointed. She rolled onto her back and looked up.

At first, the lights were merely pretty, glinting through the pearly fog. Then Utena noticed the towers. The courtyards. The walls. The castle, floating upside-down in the air above her, seemed to tremble as her exhausted brain struggled to make sense of the image, then decided the castle could not possibly be hanging there, that it must be falling.

Utena closed her eyes on reflex, flinching away from the falling architecture, lightheaded once again. When the sensation passed, she opened her eyes again and discovered that the castle was not falling, and was not upside down. Something didn't seem quite right about things, but her trek through Stairmaster Purgatory hadn't left her much in the way of clear thinking. With a groan, she rolled over and staggered to her feet, but her legs weren't having any of that and she found herself reduced to crawling towards the magnificent doors of the castle. The carvings on the doors were no doubt exquisite; Utena used them to drag herself upright, lifting the knocker almost by accident and letting it drop against the doors with a heavy thud that echoed on the other side of the door.

 *******************************************************

"No. Absolutely not."

"Don't be ridiculous, we can't just leave her out there."

"We can and we will, she shouldn't be here."

"Shouldn't she? How else _could_ she be here?"

"The Master will be furious."

"Why? What's one more girl?"

"I'm warning you! Not one step closer to that door!"

"Or what? You'll tell the Master?"

"Yes! I will!"

"Tell him, then."

Saionji strode towards the door, pausing only to grab a candelabra from a table. As he neared the door, Miki's nerve broke and he dashed off deeper into the castle.

  *******************************************************

The door Utena was leaning against suddenly shifted, opening inwards with increasing speed. Unable to get her balance in time, she followed the inward motion and found herself in a dim foyer. What little she could see from the pearly light spilling through the door was grand, but the rest was pitch dark...except for the reflection of light bobbing away down one corridor. Suddenly afraid of being alone in the dark castle, Utena forced her trembling legs into motion and chased limpingly after the person with the light, who led her up stairs that made her bite her lip as her muscles burned lifting her, through rooms whose contents she ignored in her haste, down stairs that brought tears to her eyes as she struggled to not collapse, and finally to a corridor that led to a room with no other exit.

It was not big, as castle rooms go, hardly more than a closet - if closets were fitted with stained-glass skylights instead of ceilings and nearly filled with upright glass coffins full of roses and slumbering princesses. Or at least, Utena assumed this was the princess rumored to be trapped in the forest. Her skin was dark, her features delicate, and her hair a violet cascade that tangled with the white roses that filled the coffin. There was a small golden crown nestled in her hair, and the dress she was clothed in was cut long, yards of red fabric pooling around her legs. Her chest rose and fell slowly. The stained glass let in the pearly light reflected through the fog and tinted it pink and green, the shadow of a rose filling the room. Utena thought it was the most relaxing place she had ever been in. Then again, she had also never climbed the stairway from hell on an empty stomach, so that might be influencing things. Regardless, she didn't have the strength to find her way back, even if she knew where she was going.

Utena curled up on the floor, pink hair taking up what little space her body didn't, and she slept.

  *******************************************************

"Master Touga! Master Touga!" Miki ran through the castle, peering into doorways and out of windows. Members of the castle staff stared at him as he raced by, wondering what had upset the normally cool majordomo. "Master Touga! -Oh." The blue-haired boy stopped and blushed, looking away from where Touga was making unorthodox use of a piano bench and the pianist upon it.

The interruption didn't faze the red-haired lord of the castle. With a lazy smile that regularly weakened knees and resolve, he beckoned his majordomo over. "Why, Miki, you're flushed." Eyelids lowered until Touga was looking through his long, dark lashes. "It makes you look adorable. Don't you agree, Kouze?"

The pianist gave her twin brother a smirk. "Absolutely, Master Touga."

"What's got you so excited, Miki?"

"There's a girl in the castle." Miki swallowed hard, not looking at his sister. "A new one. Unauthorized. She shouldn't be here, but Saionji let her in, and-"

"A new girl?" Touga's eyebrows arched delicately up into his silky hair. "What a pleasant surprise. I hadn't heard we were expecting another one so soon."

"We weren't," Miki said impatiently. "She's unauthorized-"

"Then how did she get here?" Touga asked lazily, playing the pianist absently. "Surely the gondola wouldn't move if she didn't have a Rose Crest."

Miki ground his teeth. "She took the stairs."

The aristocratic eyebrows climbed higher. "She did? How fascinating." The soft background sounds stopped as Touga's attention shifted to the new girl and he stood up. "I'll have to welcome her to the castle," he said casually, straightening his clothes. "Take over for me, Miki, will you?"

Miki watched helplessly as his Master sauntered out of the room, then fearfully turned to meet Kouze's expectant gaze.

He swallowed.

  *******************************************************

It wasn’t the hunger that woke Utena, or the thirst. The muscle aches were not to blame either, although not from lack of trying. It was a simple thing, really. The gentle caress of someone’s fingers against hers, touching the ring on her left hand, tugging-

Utena went from comatose to enraged and ready to do something about it in the time it took Touga to blink, left hand ripped out of his grip so fast it nearly left friction burns. Instinct took over, continuing the motion so naturally that Utena wasn’t consciously aware that she was in the process of slapping someone until Touga had already caught her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. She stared at him in shock for a few seconds before realizing that her head was resting on his lap, and that his other hand was stroking her hair in a humiliatingly proprietary way. Touga blinked again, and found that his new guest was crouched in the furthest possible corner of the room, wedged between glass coffin and wall.

He smiled, eyelashes lowering enough to turn the expression into an invitation. “Well now, what have we here? It seems my sleeping beauty is not a briar rose, but a wild one instead.” The lord of the castle rose smoothly to his feet and flowed into a courtly bow. “Fair flower, have you come to bloom in my garden?”

_Okay, I can believe the playboy rumors,_ Utena thought as she stood up, trying to formulate some sort of response that wasn’t a one-word question. When she tried to express herself, however, her parched throat produced only a croaking sound and a fit of coughing. That led to more coughing, which led to spots swimming in front of her eyes, and then the world tilted strangely and went dark.

   *******************************************************

"Saionji?"

The green-haired man stepped into the tiny room, the candelabra adding a warm glow to the pink-and-green tinted light. "Yes, Touga?"

The Master of the castle did not look up from the face of the girl whose unconscious form was cradled tenderly in his arms. "We seem to have an unexpected guest. Would you be so kind as to ask my majordomo and the head laundress to have a room made up for her? I believe you'll find them in the piano room."

Saionji's lips twitched in a knowing smirk.

"Oh, and alert the kitchen. I want a splendid banquet for her tonight, but she'll need something to restore her strength before then." He ran one finger gently over her dry lips as though appraising how they would feel beneath his own.

"Of course."

Touga looked up finally and bestowed a heavy-lidded smile upon his maitre'd. "I knew I could count on you."

Saionji bowed facetiously at the praise and withdrew, leaving the unconscious Utena to Touga's tender concern.

   *******************************************************

"Wakaba?" Saionji watched with cold amusement as the girl's expression went from startlement to joy and hope to bitter disappointment. A slightly cruel smile twisted his lips. "That lunch you made me yesterday...could you make me another one just like it?"

The unsuspecting girl brightened considerably, a faint blush warming her cheeks as she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Bring it to the Pink Room in twenty minutes," the maitre'd said crisply, leaving the kitchen and the blushing girl behind.


	4. Touga Gets Served

Utena stood in front of the princess in the glass coffin, sparing half a thought to wonder where the red-haired playboy had gone but not really caring. The princess was shorter than her, bare feet dangling a few inches above the foot of the coffin, but her position in the bed of roses meant that Utena could look her straight in the closed eyes. The pink-haired girl watched the slow motion of her chest, wondering idly how the sleeping princess was able to breathe in that thing, unable to shake the feeling that there was something very important she was supposed to be remembering.

The princess’s eyes flew open, leaf-green and full of such pain that their silent suffering held Utena as though pinning her to the wall. The agony those green eyes conveyed took Utena’s breath away, and suddenly she felt like she was the one in the glass coffin, unable to breathe. She fought the pressure of the princess’s pain, fought to move, to smash open the coffin, but was unable to even twitch a single finger. Utena’s horror doubled when she realized that the roses were moving, vines wrapping around the princess, thorns drawing blood – and were the thorns longer than they had been? Yes, they were growing, lengthening…no longer just scratching but piercing…longer still, impaling…

Suddenly the thorns burst outward in all directions, shattering the coffin and scattering the roses, becoming sword blades that held the dark-skinned girl transfixed in midair, impaling her from every direction. Utena remembered now, remembered the girl with her red dress and her green eyes, remembered that look of silent suffering and her vow to become a prince and free her-

A knock on the door woke Utena, leaving her disoriented as she tried to free herself from the tangled ruins of her dream – nightmare? – and figure out where she was. The room was nowhere she’d ever been before, opulent beyond anything she could have imagined. Why, the bed alone could sleep six and had silk sheets and elaborately carved posts holding up velvet curtains and…was that a mirror? Why would anyone want a mirror up there? The knock came again and Utena started to ask who it was, but only produced a croak. Whoever brought here had anticipated this, it seemed. The gilded night stand within arm’s reach held a crystal goblet and a pitcher of ice water. Utena was halfway through her third goblet when the door opened a crack and a very familiar voice said, “Saionji?”

Utena choked again, nearly inhaling the water. “Wakaba?”

“Utena?” The brunette peeked around the door and looked around the room before locating her friend by the bed. “It _is_ you!” Wakaba gave only that much warning before tackling the other girl. “Oh, Utena! How did you get here? Did he seduce you too? I hope not! He better not have laid a finger on my Utena!”

“Wakaba, slow down. Did who seduce me? What do you mean, ‘you too’? What happened?” Utena stoically bore the glompage, knowing that no force on Earth could remove Wakaba against her will. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she still hadn’t eaten since dinner the day before.

“Waaaah! What am I doing, babbling away when my Utena is hungry?” Wakaba detangled herself and shoved the lunchbox at Utena. “Here, you eat this! I made it for Saionji, but I guess he asked me to make it for you, not him, so…”

Utena took the box and sat on the bed, nibbling from the familiar love-declaration lunch. “Saionji’s here? I guess that’s who you were following when you saw Keiko enter the forest, then?”

Wakaba blushed and nodded, fingers tapping together. “This guy with dark skin found me after you went to class and said he could tell me how I could follow Saionji. He gave me a ring-”  her hands separated enough to show off bare fingers . “-but I lost it somehow after I got here. Anyway, I went into the forest, but there was a road there and some kind of weird elevator in the middle of a giant staircase, and Student Council Secretary Miki was there and said I was expected and that he’d lead me to the prince, and-”

“Wait just a minute,” Utena interrupted after a hasty swallow. “Elevator? That thing in the middle of the staircase is an _elevator?”_

“Y-yes…?”

Utena groaned. “An elevator. I’m such an idiot. Go on,” she said, waving away Wakaba’s unasked questions.

“Well, he led me through this castle to the prince…” Wakaba started blushing furiously. “Don’t fall for his smooth act, Utena. He’ll try to charm you, but all he wants is to…to…” she looked away, still blushing but angry at the same time.” He’ll just use you and throw you away. I thought I would never fall for any guy but Saionji, but…”

“Who, Wakaba?” Utena asked gently. “Who is this so-called prince?”

“Master Touga,” the other girl said miserably. “Student Council President Touga Kiryuu.”

“Does he have red hair?”

Wakaba nodded.

“Blue eyes?”

Another nod.

“A deep, velvety voice?”

“That’s him.”

Utena snorted and resumed eating the declaration of Wakaba’s love. “I’ve met him. If he tries anything with me, I’ll kick him.”

“Yay!” Wakaba flung herself at Utena again. “That’s my Utena!”

The door shivered as someone knocked vigorously, and Wakaba flung herself away from Utena again as it opened. The girl who stalked stiffly into the room had dark brown hair in two pigtails and hard, glittering eyes.

“So, you’re the one Master Touga’s been talking about.” She walked right up to Utena and stopped, arms crossed, giving the pink-haired girl an unfriendly once-over. “I can see there’s lots of work to be done before you’re presentable.”

Utena gave Wakaba a questioning look as the newcomer stalked over to a wardrobe and began rifling through dresses. Wakaba shrugged and pointed to the empty lunchbox; Utena nodded, and the brunette quietly retreated with it just as the pigtailed girl turned away from the wardrobe.

“Here, this one ought to suit you.” She held out a confection of cascading lace and pale pink silk that would leave Utena’s shoulders bare and had enough skirt to qualify as a ball gown.

“What? I’m not wearing that!”

The other girl glared. “Well, you’re not wearing _that_ , either! Master Touga asked me to see that you were properly dressed for dinner, and I will! …even though you don’t deserve the honor he’s giving you!”

Utena rubbed her temples. “Look, it’s Keiko, isn’t it? I just came here because I was worried about Wakaba. I have no desire to eat dinner with ‘master Touga’, and if I have to wear a dress, I’m not going.”

Keiko paled, then flushed at the insult to her Master. “But you _must!_ Master Touga _commanded_ it!”

The door swung open without a warning knock, revealing a blue-haired boy who bowed stiffly, clearly unhappy at having to be there.

“Dinner,” the disapproving majordomo announced, “is served.”

 ************************************************************

In the castle’s private dining room, the Master of the castle lounged at the head of the table, toying with his goblet. The table was set with snowy linen and exquisite china, silver that gleamed like molten moonlight and the finest crystal. There were only two settings, two chairs of gilded wood and red velvet. By the fireplace, Saionji and Wakaba stood at attention, ready to serve their Master and his guest…whenever she arrived.

“What’s taking so long?” Touga asked languidly. “I told Miki to bring her down; why isn’t she here yet?”

“Try to be patient, sir,” Wakaba ventured timidly. “Keiko’s probably still doing her hair or something.

Saionji leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Touga, have you thought that this girl might be…the one?”

The redhead shot his maitre’d an irritated look. “Of course not. You take me for a fool?”

“Good…” Saionji murmured.

Touga continued talking, not listening in the slightest. “Sweet words, a few kisses, and she’ll be mine by midnight.”

“She’s not that easy,” Wakaba warned darkly.

Saionji made a sound of agreement. “This one will take time.”

“It’s no use,” Touga practically purred. “She’s so idealistic, and I’m – well, look at me!” He posed, the firelight making his hair glow and bronzing his creamy skin.

“I hope she can see past all that,” the brunette murmured to Saionji, who nodded agreement.

“I don’t know how she could,” Touga said with a smirk, making his two servants jump.

“Well, you could start by making yourself less presentable,” Wakaba snapped, sarcasm giving every word an edge. “Or try to act like a _gentleman_ instead of a sleazy playboy.”

Saionji assumed a deadpan expression. “When she comes in, give her your dashing, debonair smile. That worked _so_ well on her earlier.”

“Oh, but don’t _frighten_ her,” Wakaba continued.

“Impress her with your rapier wit.” Saionji’s sarcasm was beginning to compete with Wakaba’s.

“She’s a delicate flower, be _gentle_.”

“Shower her with compliments,” the maitre’d suggested, expression stating he knew he was stating the obvious.

“Or be sincere,” the disgruntled brunette shot back bitterly.

Touga favored his new cook with one aristocratically arched eyebrow. “Temper, temper,” he said mildly.

The door creaked slightly as it started to open.

“Ah,” Touga announced with satisfaction. “Here she is!”

Miki peered sullenly around the door. “…good evening, Master Touga…”

The lord of the castle was suddenly less satisfied. “Well, Miki? Where is she?”

The blue-haired majordomo found his attention absorbed by an absolutely fascinating spot on the opposite wall. “The new girl? Well, um…she…” he glanced at his master and grew that much more flustered. “You see, that is…she’s in the process of…”

“Miki,” Touga growled.

“Circumstances being what they are…Ah…she’s not coming.”

Wakaba and Saionji jerked; Touga rocked back as though he’d been slapped. “What?”

  ************************************************************

Utena was using a delicate vanity stool to fend off a very determined hairbrush-wielding Keiko when there was a knock at the door – which was currently blocked by an overturned upholstered chair.

“My fair flower, didn’t Miki tell you that dinner was ready?”

The smooth voice coming through the door startled Utena just enough for Keiko to smack her knuckles with the back of the hairbrush, making her lose her grip on the frilly stool.

“I’m not hungry!” Disarmed, the pink-haired girl was forced to dash for the bed and grab a pillow to try to hold the other girl at bay with. A sharp tug jerked her head back and told her that the angry girl was just as fast, and still determined to brush her hair.

“Are you all right in there?” The door rattled against the chair that had been overturned earlier. “The door won’t open – do I need to break it down?”

“Go _away_.” Utena swung the embroidered pillow at Keiko, landing a solid blow against the side of her head. “Leave me _alone_.” Another blow had the dark-eyed brunette in retreat.

“If you insist,” came Touga’s hurt voice through the door. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

A third blow, and Keiko dropped the brush in favor of fleeing towards the dubious safety of the door. “Master Touga, she’s being difficult!”

“Gently, gently,” that smooth voice urged. “Fair flower, won’t you join me for dinner?”

“No!” Utena buried her face in the pillow for a moment, resisting the urge to throw it at the door.

“It would give me great _pleasure_ if you would join me for dinner.”

Utena stared at the door. He just didn’t give up, did he?

“Please?”

“No, thank you,” she said firmly, watching Keiko struggle to haul the chair away from the door.

“You can’t stay in there forever.” That velvety voice was filled with gentle amusement now.

“I can if Keiko can’t get the chair out of the way,” Utena muttered.

“I wouldn’t want you to starve,” Touga said, concern dripping from his voice. He fixed Wakaba with a stern look. “If she doesn’t eat with me, she doesn’t eat at all, is that understood?”

“Yes, Master Touga,” the girl whispered in response to the quiet threat.

The three castle servants watched their lord saunter casually down the hall. Behind them, Keiko finally succeeded in wrestling the door open enough to make her escape.

“Well,” Saionji said with deep satisfaction, “that didn’t go very well at all, did it?”

Miki glared at him, but did not challenge the older boy. “Wakaba,” he said instead, “stay here and make sure she doesn’t leave her room. You heard the Master’s command.”

Wakaba humphed at the majordomo but didn’t argue, flouncing as best she could into the room and slamming the door. A scrape and thump hinted that the chair had once again been pressed into service as a barricade.

   ************************************************************

"The coast is clear."

Wakaba and Utena jumped at the sound of Saionji's voice coming through the door. Utena leaned over to her friend and whispered, "Can we trust him?"

"I think so," the other girl whispered back. "The way he was talking earlier...I don't think he wants Touga to seduce you."

"That's good enough for me; we need all the allies we can get in this place."

Between the two girls, the maitre'd was inside and the barricade set back up in under a minute.

"We don't have much time," he said briskly. "Miki is lurking in the kitchen to catch Utena if she tries to get something to eat, and to catch Wakaba if she abandons her post.

"Hold on just a minute. Much time for what?" Utena demanded, hands firmly on her hips.

"To get you out of here," Saionji snapped impatiently.

"I came here for Wakaba. I'm not leaving without her."

"Wakaba can't leave."

The girl in question looked up in shock. "What do you mean, I can't leave?"

Saionji held up his left hand, showing off the Rose Crest. "No one can leave without one of these."

"That's the ring," Wakaba gasped. "The one that guy gave me. What happened to it?"

The green-haired man gave her a pitying look before turning back to Utena. "The Acting Chairman gives students Rose Crests and sends them here to try to lift the curse. Touga takes the rings from each student he seduces, trapping them all here."

Utena's fists clenched. So _that_ was what he had been trying to do! "Wait a minute. If that's so, then why do you still have one?"

"Miki and I are useful to him as pawns, so we're allowed to leave during the day - but the curse pulls us back at night."

His self-mocking tone and look of disgust were not lost on Wakaba. Utena, however, had something else on her mind.

"You said the Acting Chairman gives out these rings, right?" She waited for Saionji to nod, then continued. "I was given mine years ago by-" Utena paused, then raised her chin defiantly, "-by a prince."

"That's why we have to get you out of here; you're too valuable to risk. You weren't sent by the Acting Chairman. I think you're the one who will lift the curse."

"But how can I do that if I'm not here?"

Saionji gave her a sick smile that looked more like a grimace. "The terms of the curse require a girl that the Playboy can't seduce. You've already turned him down; if you leave, he can't seduce you. If you stay..."

"I'm not leaving." Utena met his eyes steadily, quiet resolve lending her voice strength. "There's something I have to do here."

"What-" The Student Council Vice President broke off with a strangled sound of frustration.

"The girl in the glass coffin filled with roses. I have to free her."

Saionji closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose with one hand, trying so very hard to regain his composure. "Okay," he said finally. "Here's what we'll do..."

    ************************************************************

Miki was pacing in the kitchen, driving the cooks and scullery maids slowly crazy with his relentless back-and-forth, when the door opened and Wakaba slipped inside. Seemingly unaware of the majordomo glaring daggers at her, she greeted some of the other girls and headed for a refrigerator, rummaging around in it for some leftovers.

"What are you doing?" The blue-haired boy demanded sharply. "You know what the Master said."

Wakaba rolled her eyes. "I know what _the Master_ said. Utena isn't to eat unless it's with him. But he never said _I_ couldn't eat, and I'm starving."

Miki slowly flushed as the girl turned away, clearly ignoring him. "I told you to stay with her," he said sharply.

"I did, until the Master's maitre'd showed up to relieve me." Wakaba was clearly unconcerned by Miki's anger. "If you've got a problem with that, take it up with him."

Nearly growling with inarticulate frustration, the majordomo stalked out of the kitchen.

    ************************************************************

Utena followed Saionji as he hurried through the castle, up steps and down steps and through grand hallways. Finally, they reached a set of double doors covered with bas-relief of enormous horses rearing as though to strike each other.

"This is the Master's wing," the green-haired man said in a harsh whisper, reaching for one of the brass door handles.

"Saionji!"

"-which no one may enter without the Master's permission," he continued loudly, snatching his hand back.

"Saionji! What are you doing?"

The maitre'd turned calmly, hiding his irritation beneath his usual sour look. "I'm giving our guest a tour. The Master gave no order to keep her confined to her room."

Miki glared at Utena, hands on his hips. "Why did you show her _these_ doors?"

The sour look became insufferably smug. "You don't think the Master would object if our lovely guest wandered through these doors?"

"No one enters without the Master's permission," Miki repeated firmly. "Show her something else."

"Um, hello? I'm right here, you know..." Utena trailed off at Saionji's warning glare.

"Certainly. What would you suggest showing her, my esteemed colleague?"

"The dungeon," Miki shot back.

Saionji made a chiding sound. "She's our guest, not our prisoner. How about the stables?"

"So she can escape? Not likely. The armory."

"The Master might like the idea of a new sparring partner," Saionji said thoughtfully, one finger tapping against his jaw thoughtfully as he moved away from the door, other hand gesturing behind his back for Utena to stay where she was.

"Not the armory then. The Grand Hall..." Miki glared at the older boy as he moved a few steps to keep abreast of him.

"Much too dull. The gardens." Saionji kept moving.

Miki followed, all attention on the maitre'd. "The Master's out there! The library..."

They were halfway down the hall now, Saionji's long legs forcing Miki to scramble to keep up, Utena forgotten by the doors to the Master's wing.

"Well," she said to no one in particular, "that works."

The doors swung open easily, silently, and closed softly behind her.


	5. The flying wolves were on strike

The Master's wing seemed to be composed of an endless series of opulent sitting rooms and lush bedrooms, but none of the doors Utena peeked into opened onto the corridor she remembered leading to the Rose room, as Saionji called it. The last door, a smaller version of the grand panels Saionji had led her to, opened onto a hall that seemed familiar. Candles danced in sconces between huge mirrors whose gilt frames rested on the stone floor, the entire corridor a monument to vanity as it led to what must be the Master's bedroom. Utena stood between the last pair of mirrors, scowling at the bed that looked big enough to hold twenty. The corridor looked familiar, yes, but she didn't remember this room. In fact, she remembered going through a door on the left wall, but there was no door, only...

Utena turned her attention to the mirror. At eight feet tall and four feet wide, it was more than big enough to hide a secret passageway - but how to open it? She touched the frame hesitantly, feeling for some kind of hidden catch or lever, but a sound in one of the outer rooms sent a surge of adrenaline through her and without thinking, she yanked the left edge of the frame.

The frame swung open like a door.

Too jumpy to laugh at herself, Utena slipped inside and pulled the door-mirror shut behind her.

The Rose room was exactly as Utena remembered it: the thick silence, pink-and-green tinted light, the slumbering Princess in the glass coffin. This time, however, she knew that the girl in the roses was the same girl she'd seen that night, when she was a child. The girl whose silent suffering had led Utena to vow that she was going to become a Prince and rescue her, free her from her pain. That's when the Prince had given her the rose-crested ring.

"This ring will lead you to me," she murmured quietly, wondering now about the mysterious gate to the forest.

Until that nightmare, she'd forgotten what the girl from so long ago looked like. Now she realized she didn't remember what the Prince looked like, either - only that he smelled of roses.

"If I had known that the fairest flower was blooming right here, I wouldn't have bothered with the gardens."

The deep. velvety voice cut the silence like a shark's fin and Utena whirled around - but he had planned for that, and she found herself face to face with the lord of the castle. Before she could get over the shock of him standing so close to her, she found herself held firmly in his arms with his lips caressing hers. Instinctively, she opened her mouth to gasp and his tongue slipped between her parted lips with a deep sound of pleasure. It took a few seconds for her brain to catch up to what was happening, and when it did, outrage burned through the shock, the confusion, and the scent of roses that clung to his hair. Her hands wormed their way up his chest, eliciting a smirk from the lips pressed against hers. _Joke's on you,_ she thought. Her right foot came up, then down on his. As Touga's concentration shattered, she pushed against his chest, knocking him further off-balance. He took a step backwards to catch his balance, only to lose it again as her left hand whipped up and came back across in a stinging slap that left the rose crest imprinted lightly on his cheek.

"My, my," he murmured, not losing a shred of smug composure, "it seems my wild rose has thorns." His eyelids drooped until he was admiring Utena through his long, thick lashes. "That just makes the nectar sweeter."

"I'm not your flower," she snapped, "my name is Utena. And I didn't come here for _you_."

"Why did you come here, then? Weren't you given that ring so that you could meet your Prince?"

For a moment, Utena's breath caught. How could he know that? Then she remembered that Wakaba had also been given a ring - and, presumably, so had every student who had vanished in the last month.

"No," she said, giving him a cool, dismissing look. "I came her to free _her_." A vague gesture indicated the girl in the glass coffin.

Touga laughed. Not in a cruel way, but as though Utena were a silly child who thought the moon was made of green cheese. "You can't wake her," he said between chuckles. "She can only be awakened by a Prince." His eyelids drooped again, appraising her. "You're too lovely to be anything but a Princess."

Utena crossed her arms, feeling naked under that smoldering gaze. "I _am_ going to be a Prince, Touga. I _will_ free her."

He reached out to touch her cheek, but she slapped his hand away. "You'll throw yourself away for a dream? Spend your life chasing a fantasy? Che. Dreams are nothing but illusions. You're fooling yourself, Utena."

"You're the fool," she shot back. "You think you're happy here? I think your heart is an illusion, and I think you know it, and it hurts." Her lips curved in grim satisfaction as his eyes widened in shock. "It hurts, so you do your best to destroy other people's dreams because yours are already dead."

Touga turned his head so that his face was hidden by the curtain of his hair. Only his lips were visible, and they twisted into a quiet, self-assured smile.

"I remember you, Utena."

Now it was her turn to stare in shock.

"It was raining. Your parents had just died, and there was a third coffin. You climbed into it and lay among the white roses, wishing that the world would go away and let you die along with them."

The memories came flooding back with his words and despite herself, she remembered the scent of roses clinging to him as he kissed her. Was he? Could he be?

"Back then, you said you didn't want to come out of the coffin. But what you were really saying was, 'save me'."

_How could he know that?_ Utena realized she was trembling. Touga turned slowly to face her, and she found that she couldn't look away. One step towards her. Two. She couldn't make her legs move and suddenly, he was right in front of her, one hand on her chin, thumbs brushing her jaw, the red silk of his hair falling around her as he leaned over.

"Back then," he whispered, "didn't it feel like this?" He brought his lips to her cheek, feather-light, like the petals of one of the roses whose scent swam around them.

_It did. It did._

Touga's lips left her cheek only to dance upon the other one, light as a butterfly's caress.

_Did he seduce you too?_

The memory of Wakaba's voice broke the rose-scented spell. If he was the one who gave her the ring, wouldn't he want the girl freed? Touga was a playboy. If he was her prince from back then, was he the kind of prince she really wanted? In the end, which was more important to her - becoming a Prince to free the girl from her dream, or finding her own prince?

_What kind of a Prince would I be if I abandoned a Princess in need?_

"I'm not going to be your princess," she said firmly, meeting Touga's eyes as he pulled back. "I'm going to save her whether you like it or not."

He looked at her as though he were a puppy she she'd just kicked. "Why?"

"Because that's what a Prince does."

To her surprise, Touga bowed his head in defeat. "There are...duties I must attend to," he said, voice somewhat shaky. "You are...free to come and go from the castle as you please, and you may go anywhere you wish inside it. Including this room. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Of course," Utena murmured reflexively.

Touga executed a crisp bow and exited the little room, leaving Utena standing alone in the darkening pink light with the sleeping princess and wondering what just happened.

              *********************************************************

"Master Touga?"

Miki watched the lord of the castle stalk by, ignoring his majordomo, completely wrapped up in whatever was responsible for the disgruntled expression he was wearing. Saionji, on the other hand, had a fairly good idea of what was causing Touga's discomfort. While the younger boy watched Touga stalk down the hall, Saionji backed up slowly. Once the redhead was out of sight, he slipped into a side corridor and took off running for the Master's wing. He'd managed to get Miki a good distance away before the other boy realized Utena was not with them, and further still "backtracking" to "find" her. Whether or not Utena had found the Rose room, Touga must have found her - and found that he couldn't seduce her. But that should have broken the curse...

Saionji didn't even slow down at the doors to the Master's wing; they were wide open.

"Utena!"

Through sitting rooms, past bedrooms, afraid to spend the brief seconds to look behind every door, more afraid not to.

"Utena!!"

Where was she? There was the last corridor now, leading to the Master's bedroom-

"Utena?"

"Yes?"

Saionji nearly ripped the mirror off its hinges, dashing down the short hallway to the Rose room, afraid of what he would find. Touga wasn't usually one to become physically violent, but there was a first time for everything. To his relief, however, the worst Utena looked was dazed.

"What happened?"

Utena frowned as Saionji grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Let go!" She waited until he'd backed off a step. "I'm not sure. He tried to make me think he was my prince. Wanted me to be his princess. I told him that I was going to save the girl in the glass coffin, and he..." She trailed off, remembering that strangely defeated slump. "...he told me I was free to come and go, and that I could go anywhere in the castle."

Now it was Saionji's turn to frown. "That should have broken the curse."

"What exactly is supposed to happen when the curse breaks?"

The green-haired man glowered at an unoffending wall. "I don't know. Damnit!" One fist slammed into the stone. "There must be more to the curse than that."

"Wait...you don't know?" Utena raised one eyebrow at Saionji's angry mutter. "So who does know?"

"Touga," he spat. "He's the only one who would know. I should have known he wouldn't tell me the whole thing."

"So what do we do now?"

"I'll see if I can get more information out of him. In the meantime, I suggest you get some sleep. You don't have to stay, but..."

Utena shook her head. "I'll stay. I won't leave until she's free," she said, gesturing to the sleeping princess.

               *********************************************************

By the time Touga strode into the stable, he had almost completely convinced himself that he hadn't been _defeated_ by that lovely flower named Utena, he'd just retreated strategically in order to lure her into lowering her defenses. The two flying horses whickered in their stalls, alerting the stablemaster that he had a visitor. Touga simply waited, that heavy-lidded smile firmly in place, as the tall, thin man with dark blue hair emerged from his cozy room, wearing nothing more than loose trousers and carrying a single lit candle.

"Master Touga," he said in surprise as the light illuminated the lord of the castle. "What brings you to the stable so late?"

"I have the desire to take a ride," the redhead purred.

"It's nearly dark, I don't advise taking the horses out this late."

The smile broadened just a little bit. "I wasn't talking about the horses, Ruka."

               *********************************************************

It was such a little thing. Just a nudge, really. But the candle had been precariously balanced, and one foot scrabbling for purchase on the floor slipped over a drift of hay and impacted against the wooden wall. The wall shuddered just slightly, sending the candle tumbling end over end, bouncing on an uneven bit of floor, changing the direction of motion. Still somehow lit, the candle rolled gently to the end of the little stable, where the flame licked hungrily at a stray wisp of hay. That wisp burned merrily, flame dancing down its length and hopping over to its brother, and from there to a sister, a cousin, a friend...

It wasn't very long at all before the fire reached a wall and began to climb, to seep through the cracks and lap at the hay on the other side. The white horse, already nervously watching the fire on the other side, quickly noticed that his space had been invaded. His screaming alerted the black horse, who began panicking as well. The two humans finally noticed the fire, which by this point was doing a good job of blocking the door leading to the castle's interior. The horses were not in any mind to allow themselves to be saddled; if the humans wanted to escape a flaming death, they'd have to ride bareback.

The humans chose to ride bareback.

Once out in the pearly dusk, the horses milled uncertainly. Between the smoke now leaking from the stable and the lack of light, they darted this way and that in confusion made worse by near-collisions. Ruka tried to guide the black horse down to the dueling arena, and was nearly successful, but lost his grip and fell a few yards up. Now free of his rider and the scent of smoke, the horse landed calmly next to the unconscious stablemaster.

Touga, however, had never ridden a horse without tack, and his mount was flying crazily among the towers of the castle, growing more and more panicked. It was all the red-haired playboy could do to hold on, and soon, even that wasn't enough...

               *********************************************************

            Miki glared out of the tower window at the blackened roof of the stable, barely visible in the dark shadows. The fire had been put out, and in the absence of the castle's Master, the servants were reporting to him. Most of the stable was okay, the tack for the castle's pair of flying stallions had been salvaged, but the horses themselves were nowhere to be found - and neither was the stablemaster. In addition, both Touga and Saionji were missing.

"Majordomo Miki!"

The blue-haired boy turned to face the soot-streaked groom that had just run up to report. "You found something?"

"The dark stallion is in the dueling arena. We think Stablemaster Ruka is there as well."

Miki leaned out of the tower window and craned his head to look up/down at the dueling arena. The dark shape of a horse stood out well enough against the white stone, and a pale form that might have been a person could just barely be made out, sprawled and still.

The majordomo frowned. "Is he naked?"

"Uh, yes sir...we found his clothes discarded and singed in the stable." The groom cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Master Touga's clothes were found with them."

"What?" Miki whipped his head around to stare at the hapless servant. "Master Touga was there? Where's the light stallion? Damnit, where's Saionji?"

"We don't know," the groom said, squirming under the younger boy's glare.

The majordomo turned to scan the night sky again. "Muster the castle staff. Search every room. I want Saionji found. He-" Miki broke off as a pale shape darted past the window, there and gone so fast that it took the boy's brain a moment to register what he'd seen. "That was the light stallion!" He leaned out of the window, looking around frantically before catching another glimpse of the horse, ghostlike in the gloom, with blood on its neck and back... "No," he whispered. "Not blood. That's Master Touga. Quickly! Get everyone to the windows! We have to keep an eye on that horse!" There was silence for a second, and Miki knew the groom was standing in shock. He yelled without turning his head. "Go!"

The groom ran.

                *********************************************************

Utena huffed in frustration and rifled through the wardrobe's drawers for the third time, trying to find something she wouldn't feel indecent wearing to bed. When the door rattled under an angry-sounding knock, it came as a welcome distraction.

"Who is it?"

"Miki," came the muffled reply. "Is Master Touga in there with you?"

Utena yanked the door open. "What? No! Why would he be here?"

"Is Saionji in there, or do you know where he is?"

"No, I don't. I saw him earlier - both of them - but I don't know where thy are. What's this all about?"

Miki peered around her as though unable to believe that one or both of the men weren't hiding in the room somewhere. "Master Touga's missing and Saionji is nowhere to be found."

"I fail to see what the big deal is." Utena quirked an eyebrow at the boy, one hand on her hip.

"There was a fire in the stable. Master Touga was last seen on a flying horse, somewhere above the castle. The horse has since landed in the stable courtyard. Master Touga was not on it."

Now Utena could see the urgency. "He fell?"

Miki nodded. "And we can't find him. We've looked everywhere but the Master's wing-"

"-which no one is allowed to enter without permission," Utena finished.

"Right. Saionji is the only one who was granted the freedom to enter without the Master's express permission, but we can't find him anyw- hey, where are you going?" After a moment, Miki started running, trying to keep up with Utena.

"Touga said I could go anywhere I wanted in the castle," she called back, easily outpacing the blue-haired boy.

Miki stumbled to a halt, puffing, as Utena tore down the hallway, leaping over obstacles like a track star, and skidded out of sight.

                *********************************************************

Given how short of a time she'd been in the castle, Utena was surprised she was able to find the way to the Master's wing without a problem. Of course, the crowd of milling servants by the giant double doors was a big hint.

"Out of the way!"

One of the girls on the edge of the crowd turned, saw the pink-haired girl bearing down on the doorway like a tiny freight train, and took up the cry. "Out of the way!"

The crowd parted before Utena like traffic before an ambulance and reformed in her wake, watching in awe as she vaulted over coffee tables and love seats.

                *********************************************************

Utena could not have said why she didn't stop to check any of the other rooms. Later, she would realize that none of them had windows and that skipping them just made sense, but at the time, she just bypassed them without a second thought, heading towards the corridor lined with mirrors that stood in pairs like sentinels. The mirror opened easily at her tug, and she could see immediately that something was wrong. Slowly, with a candle taken from the sconce by the mirror door, she made her way cautiously to the tiny room whose stained-glass ceiling was now a jagged mess on the floor. The candlelight glinted off the intact glass of the upright coffin, letting Utena dismiss the princess and focus on the crumpled and bleeding form of Touga Kiryuu.

First things first; Utena had no desire to get cut up trying to help the would-be prince. The candle stuck easily to the top of the glass coffin, shedding gentle golden light and freeing up both hands.

"I'll be right back", she told the unconscious redhead, and dashed back the way she came.

From the nearest bedroom, she liberated a thick velvet bed curtain and satin sheet, both in maroon. The curtain, she draped on the floor before entering the room, wincing as the broken glass crunched underfoot. Touga lay with his head towards the door, on his left side, facing the glass coffin much as Utena had when she'd taken a nap here earlier. There was plenty of thick velvet to pile between his back and the wall, giving her a safe place to roll him. She winced at the gashes in his back, but they didn't seem to have any glass shards in them. His legs didn't seem to be cut much, either back or front, and his chest was only grazed. Utena guessed he'd gone through the window on his back, then landed on his side.

Carefully, avoiding looking between knees and navel, Utena rolled Touga onto his back. He moaned as his right arm flopped over, and she revised her guess - he must have landed on his right side and injured his arm, then rolled over in pain. It took her a minute to realize that his hair was sticky with blood - in the candlelight, it was hard to tell hair from blood without touching it. There were streaks of red all over his face, his arms, his chest.... She hoped it was just from the scalp wound, but until the blood had been washed off, it could be hiding any number of cuts.

One of the larger shards of glass made an adequate knife, and Utena put it to use cutting strips from the satin sheet. The first piece she cut was much wider than would make a good bandage, and it went over the wounded redhead's dignity. The next piece was put to use dabbing blood from Touga's chest and face. There was one cut that ran up his right cheek almost to the eye, and Utena bit her lip as she carefully dabbed at it, but the eye itself seemed to be okay, and she breathed a sigh of relief - then drew in a sharp breath as the eyelid fluttered, startling her. Touga blinked fuzzily a few times before focusing on her.

"Utena?"

The vulnerable, bewildered tone was more endearing than she would have liked. "Shh, don't try to move. Can you wiggle your toes?"

The toes wiggled.

"Good. Can you wiggle your fingers?"

The fingers of the left hand wiggled, but wiggling the right caused Touga to bite back a cry of pain, skin even paler than usual.

"I don't know if it's broken or not," Utena said quietly, "but I'm going to get something to make a splint with. Don't try to move, okay? I'll be right back."

As she stood up, however, she felt the fingers of Touga's left hand on her ankle, and looked down.

"Why?"

"Because that's what a prince does," she answered after a moment.

It may have been the flickering of the candle's flame, but Utena thought Touga flinched at that - and then relaxed as unconsciousness claimed him once again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the Disney movie, the Beast is wounded by a pack of wolves. I had to find a way to get Touga similarly wounded, but the only horses around are flying, so...no pack of wolves. That's where the title comes from.


	6. Love the baby?

It wasn't hard to break a small, decorative wooden table and use the legs to splint Touga's arm. Between the maroon satin on his arm, around his head, and covering his waist, Utena thought he was probably the most stylishly bandaged person in the world - but he was still unconscious. The entire floor of the tiny room was thickly carpeted in maroon velvet, and there was enough satin to fold into makeshift pads that Utena, with some maneuvering of the unconscious playboy, was able to tie into place securely enough to move him without worrying that they'd come loose.

She was sitting back on her heels, trying to figure out how she was going to get Touga to somewhere else, when she heard footsteps in the mirror corridor.

"Utena?"

"Saionji? In the Rose room!"

The maitre'd peered into the room, eyebrows raised as he took in the sea of crimson.

"We need to get him somewhere else. Can you carry him?"

"Not very far," Saionji said, kneeling on the velvet. "It'll have to be the Master's bedroom."

"That's fine. Here, let me help."

Between the two of them, they got Touga onto Saionji's back, and carefully shuffled to the bedroom guarded by mirrors. He stirred back into coherency as they laid him down, but only long enough to agree to Utena's demand for Wakaba's presence to help her tend his wounds, and Saionji's suggestion that he let his now-frantic majordomo in. Saionji left to retrieve Miki, Wakaba, and a kettle of hot water, while Utena sat on the enormous bed, watching the wounded playboy.

"This is not the way I'd hoped to get you in my bed," Touga said softly, making Utena jump. He glanced down at his maroon-bound chest, then looked at Utena again. "You....did all this..." Another sigh. He looked at Utena with what could have been trust or surrender. "Why?"

Utena looked away, uncomfortably aware of the heat in her cheeks. This oddly vulnerable Touga was not something she knew how to handle. "What kind of a Prince would I be if I abandoned a Princess in need?"

"Thank you."

When nothing more was forthcoming, Utena risked a glance at Touga and was startled to see two tears run from his closed eyes down his blood-smeared cheeks. Despite herself, she couldn't help but think that maybe there was something deep inside the playboy that was worth saving. After a moment, she grabbed one of the pieces of satin that hadn't been turned into bandages and gently dabbed away the incriminating tears.

                *********************************************************

Miki was frantic, wringing his hands and hovering near the edge of the bed like a mother bird with a chick out of the nest. Wakaba was manning the basin of bloody water, rinsing out squares of ruined satin and cutting new ones from the remains of the sheet Utena had purloined. Saionji simply lounged in one of the decadently overstuffed chairs, watching the whole proceedings. Utena, for her part, was perched on the edge of the bed, cleaning the assorted cuts, scrapes, and gashes Touga had managed to collect on his trip through the stained-glass rose.

"That hurts!"

Touga flinched away from the soaked satin as the pink-haired girl dabbed at a cut on his scalp, water and flakes of dried blood dripping down his forehead and into his eyes. The motion elicited a hissed expression of pain as it jolted his gashed back, and a bitten-back curse as he raised his right arm reflexively to brush the water out of his eyes. Utena watched, hands on her hips, until he stopped writhing and lay still, eyes closed.

"If you'd hold still, it wouldn't hurt as much," she said with dry amusement. Wakaba handed her a fresh square of cloth and she gently patted the redhead's eyes clear of watered-down blood.

"If you hadn't turned me down, this wouldn't have happened." Although his tone was petulant, his expression was pure 'love the baby' puppy eyes.

Utena wasn't fooled in the slightest. "If you hadn't tried to force the issue," she said calmly, "maybe I wouldn't have.."

The three castle servants eyed their Master with disbelief. Did they really just hear Touga admit to getting turned down? Furthermore, was he looking abashed? A few glances were exchanged, and a few more directed at the girl who was gently teasing dried blood away from his eyes. The makeshift sponge uncovered the long cut running up his right cheek, and he hissed in pain – but did not flinch away. Very gently, Utena patted the cut with the wet cloth, loosening dried clots without re-opening it.

“You shouldn’t be such a tease,” Touga said, voice honey and velvet once more, giving Utena a look of admiring invitation from beneath his eyelashes. “Such a beautiful blossom hiding behind its thorns.”

“You shouldn’t be such a…such a… _man-slut_ ,” she shot back coolly, ignoring the look entirely as she handed her dirty rag to Wakaba and was handed a clean one in return. “Seducing everyone in your path. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Saionji held his breath, Miki held his temper, and Wakaba held her tongue. All three of them watched Touga intently, but the playboy averted his eyes from Utena’s back and did not look at her again as she turned back to him with a clean cloth and began gently dabbing at his scratched chest. The blue-haired boy was visibly confused and a little shaken by the change in Touga’s attitude, but it was all too clear to Saionji and Wakaba that the lord of the castle harbored tender feelings for the pink-haired girl. Nothing else would explain his acceptance of her rebuke.

                *********************************************************

“I was wondering what happened to the nurse’s assistant.”

The girl in question was blushing as she wrapped Touga’s wrist tightly in white bandages, the lord of the castle giving her the bedroom eyes and charming smile that didn’t work on Utena.

“It’s only sprained,” she said hesitantly, meeting Touga’s gaze briefly before looking away again, blushing harder. “You’re lucky it wasn’t broken, Master Touga.”

Utena stretched and stood up from the chair Saionji had abandoned to fetch the nurse’s aide. “Well, it looks like you’re in good hands, so I’m going to go to bed.”

“We do all need our rest,” Saionji said in that half-sarcastic tone Utena was used to hearing him use. His eyes flicked over to Wakaba for the briefest of moments.

“Yeah, it’s late,” the brunette agreed, for some reason finding the carpet fascinating. “Good night, Master Touga.” She bowed jerkily to the reclining redhead and hurried out the door, Saionji strolling insolently after her.

Miki bowed as well.

“Good night, Miki,” Touga purred.

The majordomo fled and Utena watched him go, one eyebrow raised at his hasty departure. She turned back to the bed to ask what Miki’s problem was, but had her question answered by the smoldering gaze Touga was lavishing on the hapless girl binding his arm.

“I’ll just leave you two alone,” she said, turning to go.

“Wait.”

That one word could have been a command, but it wasn’t. Utena stopped, waiting to see what would follow the word that sounded suspiciously like a plea.

“Don’t go.” It could have been an invitation, but this, too, sounded more like a plea.

Utena turned back around and looked expectantly at the wounded playboy who was now ignoring the blushing girl. No, she hadn’t been imagining it, that was a pleading look on his face. He quickly assumed an expression that, while still beseeching, was less earnest and more deliberately childish.

“It doesn’t hurt as much when you’re here,” he pouted, eyes serious above the melodramatic tremble of his lips.

She couldn’t help but be amused. “You’re such a big baby,” she chided, hands on her hips. He gave her what she was sure was a contrived look of vulnerability, and she sighed. “Fine. I won’t leave yet. But I’m raiding your closet, that room you put me in has nothing decent to sleep in.”

That brought back the playboy smirk. “I knew you wanted to get into my pants.”

Utena grabbed a small frilly throw pillow and flung it at him. Mindful of his sprained wrist, he blocked awkwardly with his left arm, chuckling as she vanished into the depths of his closet. She emerged several minutes later wearing black silk pajamas rolled up at wrist and ankle, her abused school uniform over one arm. Touga was on his stomach, left hand clenched around the throw pillow, hissing in pain as the castle’s doctor spread some kind of ointment along the gashes on his back. The hissing stopped as she entered his field of vision to put her dirty clothes on the arm of the chair.

“I think that looks better on you than it does on me,” he said, voice and face full of genuine approval. Utena turned to look at him, and he met her gaze deliberately before resuming his playboy smirk. “But it would look even better crumpled on the floor.”

Utena rolled her eyes. “You just don’t give up, do you?” Despite her rebuff, it didn’t escape her notice that he did seem to be distracted from the pain of his injuries. Playboy though he was, he was still human and she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of leaving anyone in pain if she could do something to alleviate it. Instead of curling up in the chair like she’d intended, Utena sat cross-legged by the bed so neither of them would be straining to look at the other.

“Why would I give up when there’s such a fabulous prize to be won?”

She made an exasperated sound, snatched the frilly little pillow from his loose grip and whapped him on the head with it. He gave her a contrived kicked-puppy look for about three seconds, an unreadable but serious look for half a second, and then a ‘you know you want me’ look for another three. Utena rolled her eyes again and went up on one knee to see how the castle doctor was doing, left hand braced against the bed. The last of the deep cuts had been cleaned and smeared with ointment, and the other girl was covering Touga’s back with strips of some kind of medical tape.

The nurse's assistant spoke quietly as she worked. "You shouldn't do anything that will strain your back for a while, Master Touga. You also shouldn't get the bandages wet. The other cuts will heal without leaving a scar if you use the ointment and don't pick at them."

Touga's left hand twitched as though wanting to touch the cut on his right cheek. "...and the wrist?"

"Don't use it at all for two days," she said a bit more firmly. "Keep it elevated as much as possible, don't take off the bandage, and put an ice pack on it for no more than twenty minutes if it starts hurting more, or if it starts swelling. After two days, use it gently and don't do anything that hurts." She smoothed down the last strip of medical adhesive and stood, gathering the rest of the roll, her scissors, and the unused bandages. "Will you require anything else, Master Touga?"

"No," he answered absently. "You can go."

The still-blushing girl bowed and scurried out. Utena watched her go, then turned back to Touga in surprise as he covered her left hand with his.

That childishly pleading look was back on his face, but his eyes were serious. "Stay with me," he half-asked, half-invited.

Remembering the tears earlier, she kept the edge out of her voice. If there was a shred of decency in him struggling to get out, she didn't want to discourage it. "I'm not sleeping with you, Touga."

He grinned and rolled his eyes to the side, indicating the vast expanse of unused mattress. "There's plenty of room. You wouldn't have to get anywhere near me."

The bed had to be at least fifteen feet across. Still, it would be sharing a bed. "No, Touga."

A part of her did have to admit that he could be very endearing - when he wasn't trying to drown her in seduction - but she wasn't about to swoon for his charm. Even when his kicked-puppy look seemed to have a bit of genuine disappointment along with the calculated hurt.

"Is there anything you need before I go back to my room?"

She could practically see the entire collection of cheesy pick-up lines scroll past his eyes and shot them down before any of them could make it to his mouth. He seemed to realize that she wasn't going to be impressed by the playboy act, however, and stuck with the helpless puppy act.

"What will I do if I need something in the night?"

Utena gave him a look that said that she wasn't buying it. "You have an entire castle full of people who would love to wait on you if you need anything."

"But none of them are you," he said simply.

That struck deeper than she expected. As much as she tried to tell herself this had to be just another act, she couldn't deny that it had felt good to rescue him. Even if he was an incorrigible man-slut. She smoothed the hair away from his temple with her right hand, feeling the stiffness of dried blood and watching his eyes close like a cat's at her touch.

"Good night, Touga," she whispered.

The wounded redhead sighed and moved his hand off of hers, keeping his eyes closed as she stood and retrieved her uniform from the chair, listening to her footsteps as she left the room. When he could no longer hear her, he buried his face in the pillow and remembered the feel of her fingers on his skin.     

 


	7. Utena wears a dress

"Are you sure you should be doing this? After all, your wrist..."

"That's why you're doing most of the work."

"Of course. Can't have the Master hurting himself."

Touga declined to comment.

"What's the rush? I would have thought that-"

"I didn't."

Saionji faltered in surprise for a moment. "Not even the nurse?"

No response.

"I see. So that's how it is." He smirked. "Shouldn't that lift the curse?"

"The curse is just starting."

"What do you mean?"

A pause; a gasp. Touga began to relax.

"According to the terms of the curse, when I find the one...she won't love me back."

One green eyebrow arched. "Back? Are you saying-"

A sigh. "I've never felt this way about anyone."

"I'm hurt."

Touga ignored the dry sarcasm. After a moment, Saionji sighed.

"So, there's no way to end the curse?"

Disappointment soured the redhead's glow.

"Some nonsense about dreams."

"That's not very helpful."

"Tell me about it." Touga stretched awkwardly. "What did you bring me for breakfast?"

A snort. "Get up and see for yourself."

Charming smile, eyelids half lowered. "Can't you see that I'm an invalid?"

"Oh, of course, My mistake."

Again, Touga ignored the sarcasm. "I'm to keep the bandages dry. Arrange a sponge bath for me, won't you?"

"As you wish, _Master_."

"Oh, and Saionji?"

The maitre'd turned with an inquisitive look, and discovered that all the amusement had drained off the redhead's face.

"You and Utena are the only ones who are permitted in that room. Why was she the one who found me?"

A look of smug superiority spread across Saionji's face. "While you weren't, I was."

The green-haired man left before Touga could formulate a response.

             *********************************************************

Breakfast was a disorienting mix of strange and familiar for Utena. Sitting at a small table, eating Wakaba's cooking with her, was an island of normality in the sea of what had happened since the last time they'd shared a meal.

"Are you _sure?_ "

Utena rolled her eyes and grinned. "I think I'd remember if he did." She held up her left hand, displaying the Rose Crest for what seemed like the tenth time.

"But you're wearing his pajamas."

"Have you _seen_ the kind of things in that wardrobe? I'm not wearing anything that's more than fifty percent lace."

Wakaba looked interested. "If you're not going to wear it, can I?"

"...be my guest."

The brunette squealed in joy and started rummaging through the drawers of things Utena rejected the night before. "So you really didn't do anything with him?"

"I really didn't," Utena said with a sigh. "I changed in the closet. He never saw a thing."

"I bet you got an eyeful, though." Wakaba held up a collection of silk ribbon and lace, then shook her head and put it back.

"Wakaba!"

"You're blushing, Utena," the other girl said with a grin."...he did hit on you though, didn't he?"

The pink-haired girl snorted. "I think he could hit on girls in his sleep."

"Hey...did you leave first, or did the nurse's aide?"

"She did, why?"

Wakaba peered hard at Utena. "Did he hit on you before she left, or after?"

"Before. After she left, the most provocative thing he said was 'stay with me'. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"He likes you," Wakaba said in awe. "He let you criticize him, and he didn't try to get you in bed when you were alone with him. Saionji was right. He _likes_ you."

"I'm sure he was just in shock," Utena said dryly. "Give him a day or two to recover, and he'll be back to his usual man-slut self."

"I don't know about that." Wakaba examined something filmy and found it to her liking. "I bet he doesn't hit on you unless someone else is there to see it. And I bet he'll give you anything you asked for."

The idea of that kind of power made Utena uneasy, and she attempted to deflect the serious tone of the conversation. "D'you think I could get him to give me something to wear besides dresses?"

Wakaba giggled. "If he doesn't, raid his closet."

Utena contemplated the black silk pajamas. "I may just do that."

             *********************************************************

The girl giving Touga a sponge bath wasn't much older than Miki, and she looked thrilled to have been selected. The majordomo kept his eyes averted as much as possible and wondered if the lord of the castle had summoned him just to torment him.

"I want to do something special for Utena," Touga said, stifling a wince as he leaned back in his chair. "To thank her for her quick action last night. What can you tell me about her, Mister Student Council Secretary?"

This, Miki could deal with. "Utena Tenjou. Dresses exclusively in male clothing. Active participant in just about every sport Ohtori has to offer, grades are mediocre."

"She's athletic?" Images of Utena's toned muscles danced gracefully through Touga's mind. "Does she practice any kind of swordfighting?"

"I'd have to check with Vice President Saionji and Treasurer Juri, Mister Student Council President.," Miki answered, grateful for the refuge of formality.

"Do that," Touga told him as the girl began slowly tilting his chair back, guiding his hair into a wash basin.

             *********************************************************

Utena had to admit, the private bathroom attached to her room was impressive, although the hot tub might have been overkill, and the sheer variety of girly skin and hair care products definitely was. Yesterday had been too full of weirdness and last night had been worse, but her reflection in the full-length mirror this morning told her in no uncertain terms that she really, really needed a shower. As sweat-stained and bloody as her uniform was, her hair was just as bad - and her legs hadn't forgiven her for her little cross-castle race after climbing the stairway from hell.

_Elevator. I'm never going to live that down._

Okay, the hot tub was forgiven.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy pink towel and feeling much refreshed, the two excited girls who had been waiting for her pounced with tape measures and notepads. They launched into a flurry of measuring, calling numbers to each other and jabbering about cloth and color, completely unconcerned by the fact that they'd stripped Utena of her towel. When one of them did notice her flushing at being undressed, she called the other's attention to it and they examined Utena's skin intently before reaching an agreement as to what color would suit her best. By the time they were done and coiling up their measuring tapes, Utena had recovered enough to snatch up the towel and demand an explanation.

The first one called out, "Master's orders!"

The second one just muttered a stream of tailor-jargon.

The door closed behind them, leaving Utena holding a towel and coming to the unhappy realization that both her uniform and the pilfered pajamas were gone. She re-wrapped the towel around herself and hunted out a comb, working through her options while she worked the tangles out of her hair - and indulged in what looked like a very expensive rose scented leave-in conditioner.

Option one: wait in a towel until either the uniform was cleaned, dried, and returned to her...or the chattering sewing girls brought her whatever they were measuring her for...or someone else came knocking. Utena shuddered. No, that was not a good course of action.

Option two: make a dash for Touga's closet. Wearing...what? The towel? A quick check of the bathroom revealed a filmy, see-through bathrobe. No good. A sheet? As tempting as it was, that was too much material and she had no desire to ruin another sheet.

Option three: wear something out of the wardrobe. Utena shot the piece of furniture a look of pure loathing. She refused to wear a dress for Touga's benefit.

But what if...

It would have to have sleeves, first of all. She refused to wear anything that showed off half her chest. Her choices seemed to be lemon yellow or leaf green. The yellow one was a slinky sheath; that one was out. Green it was. The nail scissors were not ideal, but they worked well enough. There was more than enough material in the skirt, a few strips wouldn't be missed...

In a surprisingly short amount of time, Utena was jogging in place and dashing between bed and door to test her creation. She hadn't wanted to wear any of the lacy undergarments, but lace was better than nothing, and she didn't want to be bouncing while she made her dash. The skirt of the green dress had been slashed halfway up her thighs, each half wrapped around a leg and tied in place at knee and ankle with strips ripped from the hem. If you didn't look too closely, it didn't look all _that_ bad.

Utena didn't intend for anyone to get a good look at her...outfit.

Mentally crossing her fingers that the lord of the castle would be elsewhere, she slipped out of her room and took off running for the Master's wing. She passed a few servants, but no one tried to greet her or stop her. Still, it was a relief when the double doors closed behind her. It was more of a relief that there didn't seem to be anyone else in the wing. She made her way to the Master's bedroom, noting that the mirror was firmly closed and there didn't seem to be any blood on the floor.

_I wonder what Saionji said if anyone asked where I found Touga._

The walk-in closet was more like a small apartment, Utena thought as she wandered down the short hallways and into the room she remembered as being full of actual clothes - even if they were fancier than anything she was used to wearing. It didn't take long to find something acceptable, but she kept getting distracted by the other things there. Finally, she settled on trousers of gold satin and a royal blue tunic with gold embroidery. It was a relief to get out of the mangled green dress, and she held it at arm's length weighing whether it was worth carrying out with her, or if she should just leave it in the closet as a wordless protest.

It fit remarkably well on the tunic's hangar.

A few minutes of rummaging in another branch of the closet, and Utena found a pair of royal blue socks to slip on. She even managed to wrap the legs of her trousers so that rolling them up held the fold in place and gave the impression of being less baggy on her. The tunic had three-quarters sleeves, but on her they were full. All in all, she thought, she looked pretty good for having borrowed the clothes. There was a moment of guilt over intruding in Touga's room, but he _did_ tell her she could go anywhere. That and he would probably be thrilled to see her here, but that resulted in a different pang of guilt entirely. If what Wakaba said was true, and he did like her...

But he was a playboy, a man-slut who would seduce anyone who crossed his path. Hardly the kind of guy she wanted to get involved with. Yes, there was a chance there was some decency in him, but that nebulous possibility wasn't remotely enough to overcome her reservations. She'd play it cool, see how things went, and try to use the influence Wakaba was sure she had to try to undo some of what he'd done. One final look in the mirror and she marched briskly out of the closet with the intent of finding a brush for her now-dry hair.

Somewhere in the sea of red silk and fluffy pillows that was the enormous Master bed, something moved. Utena froze, uncertain if she'd actually seen motion out of the corner of her eye, and turned to examine the tangled sheets. Something moved again, there was a cry of pain, and then Touga rolled over onto his back and cried out again, biting his lip as he held very still, waiting for the pain to subside. Utena held her breath, torn between impulsive compassion urging her to try to help him, and practical compassion whispering that startling him would not be good. She settled for a compromise and tiptoed the rest of the way to the door before calling his name softly.

"Touga?"

The wounded redhead jerked and bit back a third cry, taking a few breaths to try to steady his voice before he called back, "Utena?"

Now she made her way to the side of the bed, internally wincing at how hopeful he'd sounded. He turned his head slowly as she approached, still holding the rest of his body rigidly still. She could see beads of sweat on his forehead, and his skin was so pale that faint freckles dotted his cheeks. That had to be an incredible amount of pain he was holding in. Utena didn't bother asking if he was okay.

"What happened? How can I help?"

The look he gave her was pure pain-laced gratitude. "Rolled...the wrong way. Something...underneath..."

Utena winced away from the agony he was keeping behind his clenched teeth and examined the tangled bedclothes. "It looks like you're lying on a bunch of twisted sheets. I'm going to try to pull them out from under you, okay?"

Touga nodded, eyes scrunched tight.

Figuring that the edge was a good place to start, Utena traced the tangle out and started pulling the fabric gently. Several times, she had to let go of the section she was holding and grab a handful of fabric that was closer to Touga, but the tangled mass started to slide out from underneath his wounded back. Not wanting to cause him more pain, she shifted position on the bed and started working the cloth from closer to his shoulder. gently easing folds and clumps out until there was one section left - but when she tugged that, the injured playboy arched his back and whimpered.

Utena dropped the cloth like it had burned her. "What’s wrong?"

"Pillow," was all Touga said.

He was lying on a pillow. There was no way she was going to be able to pull that out from underneath him.

"We're going to have to roll you over. Which way do you want to go, towards me or away from me?"

"Away," he groaned, breathing shallowly. "Do it fast."

Utena worked her left hand under his shoulder, and began working her right hand under his hip, but froze when she realized he wasn't wearing anything under the sheet. Another whimper slipped out of Touga and she gritted her teeth, shoved her hand under his rear, and heaved. He cried out again as the motion wrenched his back, and there wasn't enough momentum to turn him over. He teetered on his side, tipping slowly back towards her. Before he could slam back down on the small, hard pillow, Utena jerked it and the rest of the sheet out of the way with her right hand, trying to ease him back down with her left. It took a minute for Touga to relax again, and she felt guilty for causing him the kind of pain that had his left hand in a fist so tight his knuckles were white, and droplets that were either sweat or tears soaking into his hair.

Unsure of what else to do, she smoothed the hair away from his face and sternly reminded herself of his shameless sexual habits when he leaned into her touch, almost nuzzling at her fingers. It seemed to help, however, so she left her hand cupped against his cheek and watched as the pain left his face. When he opened his eyes, the look he gave her was an unsettling mix of gratitude and joy that she had no idea how to react to. She glanced away, uncomfortable, but blushed and directed her gaze right back when she realized that in pulling the sheet out of the way, she'd also uncovered his unadorned lower half. Touga's expression turned puzzled, then mildly amused as he realized where she'd been looking. Utena braced herself for the smarmy pick-up line, but it never came. The lord of the castle seemed content to let his assets make their own quiet argument.

As the silence stretched out, Utena took her hand back and rubbed it absently against the sheet, averting her eyes in the other direction. "Not going to make a comment about getting me in bed with you?" she asked, a bit sharper than she'd intended.

Touga just chuckled. "I'm afraid that if I did, you'd leave."

Well, he had her there. Wakaba's statement seemed to be holding true - he wasn't pulling the playboy routine on her. The idea that he might be willing to forgo the pleasures of the flesh in favor of the pleasure of her company made her distinctly uncomfortable. A rustle of movement to her right, and the sheet brushed past her as he covered himself.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"It's what a Prince would do, isn't it?"

The tone he'd used was neutral, but the words he'd chosen sounded like Touga was apologizing - something she was sure did not come easy to him. Again the thought came to her that if he was trying to be a decent person, she shouldn't discourage it. Hesitantly, she met his eyes and nodded once. His expression was as neutral as his voice had been, but at her nod, he smiled. It slipped into a lazy smirk after a second, eyelids lowered seductively, but Utena had the strange sense that he was using it to cover his feelings - as though he were ashamed of his naked emotions the way he wasn't about his body.

"Where did you find those clothes?" he asked in a mildly curious tone.

Utena glanced down, having half-forgotten what she was wearing. "Your closet."

"Ah. That would explain why you were close enough to hear me." His eyes traveled up and down her form. "Very princely."

She grimaced. "Better than the frilly stuff in the wardrobe."

"I think you would look very nice in those dresses. However, I will have them removed to make room for clothes more suited to your tastes. In the meantime, please, feel free to keep raiding mine."

It was obvious that he was trying, but he couldn't quite keep all the smug invitation out of his voice. Utena mentally gave him an A for effort.

"Thank you," she said again. "Will you be okay?"

Now it was Touga's turn to grimace. "I think I'd better stay here a while. My rest wasn't very restful."

Utena nodded and slipped off the bed.

"Utena," he called when she had almost reached the door. She turned to look at him. "Will I see you at dinner?"

"As long as I don't have to wear a dress."

"I'll see you then," he said, honey-smooth, and watched her vanish through the door.

Touga lay awake for a long time, remembering the feel of her hand on his cheek and wondering if he could be content to have her not hate him.

 


	8. Saionji and Wakaba get busy

Halfway back to her assigned room, Utena decided that if she was going to be in the castle for a while, she should explore and learn her way around the whole thing, not just the path from her bedroom to Touga’s. Instead of turning left and going down the stairs, she turned right and went up.

              *********************************************************

“Keiko, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Master Touga.”

Touga stretched his legs, letting the sheet ride down just a little while he reclined in his most sensuous manner, a smirk playing about his lips. “Our guest, the lovely Utena, will be receiving a selection of clothes tailored for her specifically. There must be room for them before those two seamstresses finish them. I want you to remove all items of clothing from the Pink Room before – I can never remember their names.”

The brunette tore her eyes away from the red fabric just barely concealing her Master’s assets and frowned. “The girls from the drama club? One with braids that stick out, one with a bow?”

“Yes, them. They’ll be creating everything for Utena’s new wardrobe, so everything currently in the Pink Room needs to go. I don’t care what you do with it-” he stretched again, arching his bare chest and inching the sheet closer to indecency. Keiko’s attention was once again held captive by the taunting cloth, and he smirked. “-keep the clothes if you like, just make sure they’re out of there by the time the new clothes arrive.”

“Yes, Master Touga.”

Keiko bowed and reluctantly started for the door, obviously hoping the lord of the castle would call her back for something.

“Oh, and Keiko?”

The hope on her face was painfully clear as she turned back. “Yes, Master Touga?”

The cruel smirk Touga wore said that he knew what she was hoping for. “Tell Kouze that the black pajamas are to be returned to Utena’s room when they’re clean, not mine.”

Keiko’s face fell. “…yes, Master Touga.”

The red-haired playboy settled back against the pillows, pleased with himself.

               *********************************************************

“Like this?”

“No, you’re doing it all wrong!”

“Well, maybe if you _showed_ me what you want me to do-!”

“Here.” Saionji took her hand and guided it to the proper place, gently pressing her fingers until they held it correctly, then moved her hand slowly up and back down. “Now you do it.”

Wakaba let go and pulled her hand back, then reached and grasped, fingers curling hesitantly around it. She repeated the motion Saionji had guided her through, and smiled at his look of approval.

“Yes, that’s it. Very good.”

The brunette beamed at the praise.

“Think you’ll be able to show Utena what to do when she’s with the Master tonight?”

“Yes, I think so. Can I practice a little more first?”

Saionji gave her an imitation of Touga’s heavy-lidded smirk. “By all means.”

Wakaba practiced picking up the spoon and lifting it to her lips a few more times.

“Okay, I’ve got it now.”

“Good. That was the last of it - go find our guest and give her a crash course in formal table manners.”

Spoon once again neatly in its place, Wakaba nodded and got up from the table. She paused for a moment and gave Saionji the sort of look Keiko had been giving Touga, then hurried out, blushing slightly.

               *********************************************************

Miki was reporting his findings while helping Touga dress. While he still averted his eyes often, the report at least gave him something else to think about. It just made sense that with his injuries, the redhead wouldn't be able to tie laces, but that didn't make it any less awkward. He just wished Touga would stop giving him a knowing smirk every time the word 'sword' was uttered. The boots, at least, weren't nearly as...personal...to fasten.

"Excellent work," Touga purred as Miki finished tying the boots and giving his report. His eyes slid half-shut. "...and the information you gathered is good as well."

The younger boy flushed and turned to the selection of shirts. "Why did you want information on her fighting style, Mister Student Council President?"

"I told you, I want to do something special for her. Um...what is that green thing, Miki?"

The ruined green dress hung sadly from the hanger. "I don't understand. How did this get here?"

Touga started laughing. "Never mind," he said between chuckles. "I'll wear the red one."

Obediently, Miki put the remains of the green dress back and pulled a red silk shirt with long, loose sleeves off its hanger. "Couldn't you stick to traditional things?" he asked as he guided Touga's arms through the wide sleeves. "Flowers? Chocolates?" Head bowed, he started fastening the ornate buttons. "Promises you don't intend to keep?"

The lord of the castle looked down in smug amusement. "Still upset about that, Miki?" he purred.

The majordomo declined to answer. When the last button was fastened, he stood up and eyed Touga critically. Apparently satisfied, although still unhappy, he nodded and opened a panel to reveal a full-length mirror. Touga looked himself over, posing slightly. Polished back boots of supple leather, tight cotton pants dyed a deep, velvety black, and the silk shirt that hung to halfway down his thighs, gold embroidery glinting among the red that was a few shades darker than his hair. Yes, this was satisfactory to the lord of the castle.

"Excellent," he said, giving his reflection a come-on look. "You may go. Send in a girl to brush my hair, won't you?"

"Yes, Master Touga."

Miki fled, leaving Touga smirking at himself.

               *********************************************************

"Great," Utena muttered, looking around. "I'm completely lost. Oh, hey - Miki!" The pink-haired girl dashed towards the blue head that just bobbed around the corner, only to discover that it was a girl. "I'm sorry, I thought you were Miki. I-" She peered at the pile of folded cloth in the girl's arms. "Um, are those my clothes?"

The blue-haired girl blinked and examined Utena before smiling. "Mmm-hmm. I was on my way to bring them back to the Pink Room. You're Utena, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. And I'm lost. Do you mind if I walk with you?"

"Not at all! My name is Kouze. I'm Miki's twin sister." The two girls resumed walking. "I wanted to say thank you, by the way."

Utena blinked. "For what?"

"For saving Master Touga. Miki told me all about it. Is it true you turned him down?"

"I did." Utena braced herself, but there was no reaction. "...you're not mad about that?"

Kouze shook her head. "Why would I care? That's between you and Master Touga. Hey, let's be friends, okay?"

"Um...okay," Utena agreed hesitantly. "But...your brother doesn't seem to like me much, and Keiko got pretty upset that I didn't go to dinner with Touga..."

"Keiko's a stuck-up bitch," the blue-haired girl said idly. "Just ignore her, she thinks she's better than the rest of us just because she was the head bootlicker of Master Touga's little sister."

"But what about your brother?"

For some reason, the reminder that Miki didn't approve of Utena brought a sly little smile to Kouze's face. "Don't worry about him. He's just protective. Master Touga likes you, and that's all that matters."

_Likes me..._ Utena fell silent, trying not to blush. The other girl didn't seem to mind, and provided a running commentary on who had become what castle servant, and which servant was having relations with who. From idle comments made, Utena vaguely understood that the magic of the castle amplified the natural talents of anyone bound by the curse. The thought crossed her mind, as the blue-haired girl launched into another sordid tale of who was sleeping with who, that it may not have been a coincidence for her to become a laundress. She certainly had a flair for airing dirty laundry.

Wakaba was waiting in the hall outside the Pink Room.

"There you are! Come on, Utena, we don't have much time!"

"Much time for what?' Utena asked as she was dragged away.

"To practice! Saionji told me to make sure your table manners were 'up to snuff'. He made me practice everything so I could be sure you're doing it right."

With an apologetic wave to Kouze, Utena surrendered to the inevitable.

 


	9. There will be no singing here

Once again, the castle's private dining room was set for two. The pristine linen tablecloth was adorned with fine crystal and silver that had been polished to a gleaming finish, the china an exquisite porcelain that glowed in the light of the snowy candles burning in their golden candelabras. Saionji and Wakaba stood attentively by the fireplace, waiting for Utena's arrival. The lord of the castle paced back and forth between fireplace and table like a caged tiger, wondering if his guest would stand him up a second time. When the door began to open, he froze for two heartbeats, and then all evidence of nerves vanished under the smoothly confident posture of the Playboy.

 _If that's Miki telling me she's not coming again,_ Touga thought to himself as he put on his most charming smile, _I'm going to-_

All thoughts evaporated as Utena stepped through the door Miki was holding open. The red-haired playboy barely noticed as his majordomo bowed himself out; his eyes were on the girl standing defiantly before him. The clothes were no surprise, but he thought they looked even better on her when he wasn't in pain. Her hair shone softly, long and smooth, and his fingers twitched at the memory of those silky strands sliding past his skin. He wanted to take her hand and bow over it, brush his lips against her skin and escort her to her seat. The memory of his cheek stinging from her hand warned him that she would not respond well if he tried, however, and he was grateful that Saionji had done such a wonderful job prepping her little friend. He could have used one of his other servants, one with more experience, but Wakaba's presence would have a more beneficial effect on Utena's mood. His maitre'd swore she was dependable and could keep her mouth shut, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that keeping Utena and her friend separated would hurt his already-slim chances.

Touga suppressed his instinct to charm and instead allowed Saionji to seat him even as Utena did the same and smiled gratefully at Wakaba for her help. Like clockwork, two of the kitchen staff scurried out to hand the first course to the maitre’d and his assistant.

“Last night, I thought dinner would taste even better with your company,” he said, the fingers of his left hand running suggestively up and down the stem of his crystal goblet. “But now that you’re actually here, I’m sure I won’t taste a thing.”

Utena rolled her eyes at the blatant invitation on his face as the kitchen staff held trays out to Saionji and Wakaba, who smoothly transferred tiny plates to the table. There were two fancy crackers on hers, one with a spoonful of something black and lumpy, the other bearing a reddish version of the same. She looked for Wakaba, but she and Saionji had vanished into the kitchen along with the other two. A glance at Touga showed the playboy chewing absently, obviously more interested in her than what he was eating. With a mental shrug, she picked up one of the crackers and popped it into her mouth. The black stuff was salty and slightly fishy, but rich and savory at the same time. Her pleasant surprise must have showed on her face, because Touga suddenly looked extremely pleased with himself. Somehow feeling like dinner was a competition she hadn’t been warned about and that he was winning, Utena forced a more casual expression and ate the other caviar-bearing cracker.

Almost as soon as Utena swallowed, Wakaba was there filling her goblet with icy water from a pitcher that had lemon slices floating in it. The tiny plate was whisked away and replaced with a shallow bowl of broth garnished with wafer-thin slices of mushroom and a handful of scallions.

“The caviar was expensive,” Touga commented as Saionji poured him water, “but not as precious as your smile.”

Utena scowled as the maitre’d and his staff vanished again and focused on the excellent chicken broth instead. Despite Wakaba’s brief training, she almost grabbed the wrong spoon. She looked up to see if Touga had noticed, but he was concentrating on his own soup. It took her a second to realize that he was eating very carefully with his left hand; the sleeves of his silk shirt completely hid the bandages on his right wrist and for a moment she’d forgotten about his sprain. They ate in silence studded by brief glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Touga’s were mostly blatant admiration, but right before they finished the soup, Utena swore she saw apology instead.

“Lobster ravioli,” he explained as the empty bowl was replaced by a plate of three artfully arranged heart-shaped objects. He leveled his best seductive look at her. “I think you’ll enjoy the cream sauce.”

 _He’s just doing it because there’s other people here,_ Utena reminded herself firmly, face hot at the unmistakable insinuation. She stabbed one of the pasta pockets with more force than was really necessary and glared expectantly at the red-haired playboy. That lazy smirk managed to stay firmly in place as he chewed, but the instant the door closed behind his servants, he gave her a _what can you do?_ look, one eyebrow raised.

As much as she hated to admit it even to herself, the cream sauce was delicious.

Utena hesitated over the last ravioli long enough that Touga asked her cautiously if something was wrong. Unsure of how to say _I don’t want you hitting on me when they bring the next course_ without sounding harsh, she just gave the door to the kitchen a pointed look and watched him for a reaction. He met her eyes seriously and gave a very slight nod. Utena braced herself and finished her ravioli. As the door opened, Touga dipped his finger in a puddle of cream sauce and brought it sensuously to his lips, licking the pale sauce off with a display that was practically an art form. When the door closed again, she applauded politely and he gave a little half-bow and a charming grin. Only then did Utena actually notice what had been placed in front of her.

“Lemon sorbet,” Touga supplied at her questioning look. “It cleanses the palate before the main course.”

“If you say so,” she replied, tentatively taking a bite of the pale yellow ball in the crystal dish. “Hey – this is really good!”

“What were you expecting?” Touga asked with a ‘silly child’ chuckle.

“I’ve never had real sorbet. I was expecting the kind you get at the store.”

One fine red eyebrow arched up. “And the caviar wasn’t a hint that something so unsophisticated would never be presented here?”

Utena felt herself flush angrily. “I didn’t know this existed. How can I expect something when I don’t know it’s there?”

The look on the redhead’s face was one part gentle smile, one part teasing smirk. “Is that why you climbed the stairs to get here?”

 _…never going to live that down._ _Never._

A resigned moan was Utena’s only reply as she pushed the sorbet cup out of the way and tried to bury her face in the linen tablecloth. Touga spooned up sorbet mechanically, stifling his alarm. This wasn't the reaction he'd expected - he'd only meant to tease, to stoke the flare of anger that made her look so _vibrant_. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd done wrong, but he fervently hoped he hadn't just ruined the little bit of goodwill he'd earned so far. What was he supposed to do now? More teasing was out. Flirting was out. Apology didn't even occur to him. The silver spoon rang softly against the crystal of his dish, and he realized he was out of sorbet.

"Your sorbet is melting," he said mildly, chewing the sprig of mint that had garnished the dish.

Utena moaned again, sounding aggravated as she lifted her head and reached for the crystal dish. Touga was sure she wasn't fully appreciating the delicacy, but somehow he didn't think that anything he could say would have the desired effect. He'd have to wait for the main course - and the half hour of privacy that came with it - and hope that he could somehow salvage the situation.

When the sorbet was gone, Utena crossed her arms and glared at the redheaded playboy, daring him to say anything while Saionji and Wakaba removed the dishes and replaced them with the next course. Both of them ignored the kitchen staff entirely; while Utena glared at him, Touga just gave her a lazily inviting smirk, eyes half-lidded. The smug faded as soon as the last servant vanished into the kitchen, leaving him looking oddly hopeful. _Like a child giving a gift,_ Utena thought. _Both hopeful and afraid._

With that reminder that there was something in him that wasn't just playboy, she looked down at her plate to see what smelled so good. Three slices of roasted potato drizzled with herbed butter, a fan of steamed snow peas, and slices of carrot scattered around for color framed a thick cut of meat, scored in a diamond pattern and wrapped in bacon. It looked every bit as good as it smelled, and Utena suddenly didn't care about what kind of comments could be made about eating it. She cut a bite, eyes closing in pleasure at the surprisingly juicy meat. When she opened her eyes again, she caught Touga watching her with what she would swear was tenderness before it slipped back into smug and he prepared to cut into his own dinner.

Cut into his...

Knife _and_ fork.

"Touga!" Utena's shocked cry stopped the lord of the castle, who looked up in alarm. "The nurse said you're not supposed to use your wrist at all for two days! Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

Guilt flashed briefly across Touga's face, followed by a sort of prelude to despair. It was as though he'd hoped she wouldn't remember that, but now that she had, some kind of carefully-laid surprise was ruined. Utena thought quickly. It would be humiliating to call Saionji in to cut his meat, but as tender as it was, it couldn't be cut with just a fork. It wasn't her intent to either humiliate the red-haired playboy or ruin dinner for him. She didn't exactly want to discourage the shred of decency in him, and he _had_ been almost apologizing for his shameless behavior whenever there was no one there to see him. And he did go through the trouble of arranging this elaborate dinner, so this could be seen as a thank-you...

Almost before she realized she'd made a decision, Utena was standing next to Touga's chair, hands out in a silent demand for his cutlery. He looked at her, expression carefully neutral, but something like hope flickered in his eyes. The knife and fork were handed over. He watched her as she cut the thick meat into bite-sized pieces, making her glad her hair had fallen forward because her cheeks were burning.

"Thank you," he said softly as she handed the silverware back, sounding surprised that the words had escaped his lips.

"You're welcome," she replied, voice equally soft.

Neither one looked at the other for a few minutes. Utena hoped he hadn't noticed her blush; she was still trying to figure out the strange intimacy they seemed to share when no one else was around and wondering which was the real Touga: the playboy, or the would-be prince. Touga was torn between berating himself for appearing so weak in front of the pink-haired girl, and trying to convince himself that this one moment of compassion did not mean she harbored affection for him. After all, if he had no hopes, they could not be dashed. His heart refused to listen to this excellent logic, however, and persisted in its argument that maybe making Utena feel comfortable around him was more important than maintaining his reputation with everyone else. At the very least, she could be trusted to keep his image intact. Touga put his fork down and brushed a few strands of hair away from his face, fingertips touching his cheek briefly, remembering satin and saltwater.

Trust did not come easily to the lord of the castle.

"Are you enjoying dinner?"

The gentle question startled Utena, both because she had been so deep in her own thoughts and because there was no insinuation in the tone. "Yes, I am. Thank you." She speared a bite of potato and a carrot. "It's delicious."

Touga met her eyes, letting her see his serious expression before it flowed into his usual smugly pleased look. He considered a teasing comment, but didn't want to risk ruining the delicate mood. Utena watched him thoughtfully as she nibbled potato, wondering if he was aware of the yearning he'd let her see before carefully covering it up. It occurred to her that if the castle amplified the natural talents of the people trapped in the curse, he might not really be such a shameless man-slut...and that he might not know how to not be one. That was something to ponder – could the absence of a thing be considered the silent expression of its opposite?

With the half-smirk held up like a protective shield,  Touga casually inquired about Utena’s day, how she liked Ohtori, what she did for fun. Utena found that if he kept he insinuations out of his voice, she could carry on a light conversation without wanting to slap him again. And as long as he didn’t look at her with those unsettlingly vulnerable eyes, conflict between wanting to help him and wanting to smack him wouldn’t make her freeze up. It was definitely surreal, having a conversation about school and hobbies and normal, everyday things while being in a magic castle with flying horses and a girl sleeping in a glass coffin.

The kitchen staff smoothly removed china and silverware while Utena and Touga debated how a match between the fencing and kendo captains would go, quietly slipping plates of cheese and fruit before each diner. When Utena finally noticed that the next course had arrived, it came as a surprise that she'd been enjoying herself. She still wasn't entirely certain how to deal with Touga when he was being a smarmy bastard or in those moments of painful vulnerability, but when he wasn't putting on an act, he seemed like he might be a decent person. She eyed the two wedges of unfamiliar cheese, wondering what Touga would be like if he weren't in the castle. Three red grapes and four shelled walnuts were arranged by one of the cheeses, while the other was garnished with the fanned slices of a single large strawberry.

Utena quirked one eyebrow at Touga, but he was holding a grape in one hand and the wedge of softer cheese in the other. When he noticed her looking, he took a bite of cheese and popped the grape into his mouth, holding up his now-empty right hand in a gesture of smug victory. She sighed and rolled her eyes, then followed his example. The cheese wasn't anything she'd had before, but the taste worked well with the grape. The walnut didn't go quite as well with the soft cheese, she thought, but it didn't go with the harder one either. Actually, she didn't like the flavor of the harder cheese at all, and just wound up nibbling the strawberry slices.

"I took the liberty of ordering anew wardrobe for you," Touga said suddenly, trying to sound casual. "In the meantime, I've had your uniform and the silk pajamas laundered and returned to your room."

Utena nodded. "I met Kouze earlier, while she was taking them back." She grinned slightly, remembering the stream of gossip the blue-haired girl was capable of. “Oh! Kouze said the stablemaster fell off the other horse, is he okay?”

“Ruka? He’ll be fine, it’s just a concussion. It could have been much worse.”

Touga paused as he realized what he’d just said. Utena averted her eyes. A long, awkward silence ensued. Neither of them seemed to want to break the silence, both of them thinking about the strange intimacy of helpless Playboy and compassionate Prince but neither of them willing to actually talk about it. Finally, Touga cleared his throat.

“Would you care for dessert?” he asked carefully, voice as neutral as he could manage.

“Dessert would be lovely,” Utena replied, toying with a strawberry slice and not looking up from her half-empty plate.

A small bell rang from somewhere at Touga’s end of the table, and the servants swept out to clear away the remnants of cheese and fruit while Wakaba and Saionji presented dessert with a flourish and followed the other two out. Utena prodded at her plate with the dessert fork, but chocolate ganache gave no hint as to what was hidden beneath. Well, whatever it was, it was bound to be good. She cut into the fist-sized object to discover an orange-colored cake of some kind layered with a light chocolate mousse. Curious now, she took a bite.

As with the fillet mignon, Utena closed her eyes in delight as the soft orange-flavored sponge cake and mousse practically melted in her mouth, the chocolate ganache proving to be laced with cinnamon and some other spice she couldn’t name. Again, when she opened her eyes, the lord of the castle was watching her – this time, she caught a flash of worry followed by relief  before the lazy smirk re-asserted itself.

“It’s delicious,” she said, smiling. On a whim, she gave him the sort of teasing smile she usually reserved for Wakaba’s love declarations. “As you knew it would be.”

The momentary shock on his face was priceless. Utena gave him another, more triumphant smile, and he nodded slightly to concede the win. _Okay,_ she thought as she turned her attention back to the excellent cake, _what am I doing?_ Dinner had strengthened that morning’s sense that he was using the playboy act to hide his true feelings, but he wanted her to know that they were there. That there was more to him than the act. _He’s scared,_ she realized. _But of what?_ Utena examined the redhead from beneath her eyelashes, but he was enjoying his own cake and gave her no clue.

_I’m afraid that if I did, you’d leave._

Utena sat up straight, dessert forgotten as she watched Touga intently. He’d actually said it. He came right out and gave her the answer, only she hadn’t realized at the time that he was using the act to cover how he really felt. She blinked and discovered he was giving her a puzzled look.

“Are you okay?”

_Oh wow, that’s actual concern in his voice._

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just thought of something.”

He watched her a few moments longer, not saying anything, just making sure she saw the worry in his eyes. When she resumed eating, he did as well.

_He’s afraid I’ll leave. Does this mean he’ll try to keep me here? Will he try to stop me from waking the princess?_

Utena popped the last bite of orange and spiced chocolate in her mouth and gazed thoughtfully at Touga as he finished his dessert as well. Instead of making things clearer, her revelation just added complexity to the puzzle. And now he was smiling at her.

"Would you care to join me for a stroll?" His posture and smile were supremely self-confident, but his eyes were uncertain.

Slowly, wondering what he had planned, Utena nodded and stood up from the table. Touga stood as well, looking like he wanted to gallantly offer her his arm and wasn't quite sure what to do.

"After you," she said, and followed as he led the way out of the dining room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually spent a good hour researching seven-course meals for this chapter, because it's Touga and his ego demands nothing but the best. The things we do for writing, right?


	10. Rose of the noble castle

In tentatively comfortable silence, the lord of the castle led his pink-haired guest through corridors she had not discovered during her earlier wandering. The part of Utena's mind that wasn't trying to memorize the way back was wondering what the playboy had in mind and if she should be worrying, while Touga was absolutely not worried in the slightest about how his strong-willed not-princess was going to react. Nope, not worried in the least. Not one bit. Okay, maybe a little, but only because he was not in top form and she could definitely defend herself.

The double doors had been unlocked and prepped; all it took was a tug and they swung silently open, two halves of a brass rose parting to allow mere mortals to pass through. The sharp intake of breath behind him spoke clearly of Utena being suitably impressed. He'd timed everything right; the sun was reflecting brilliantly through the fog as it set, a flood of molten gold pouring through the thirty-foot circle of stained glass, transmuted into pink and green by a larger version of the pattern that hung over the Rose Bride and flung onto the white marble floor as a phantom mosaic that would not be out of place in a ballroom. Touga knew that Utena was seeing him silhouetted dramatically against the glowing rose set in the far end of the hall, arms spread in a grand gesture from the supposed effort of flinging the doors open, and wished he could see the look on her face. He knew from experience that her eyes would be drawn upwards first, tracing the curved lines of the vaulted ceiling before trickling down the rose-carved Solomonic columns that separated the unadorned stone walls into regular segments. The giant rose painted on the floor in colored light would attract her attention next, and only then would she notice that the walls were lined with racks of polished arms and armor.

For once, Touga was not upset at being ignored. He just moved out of the way and leaned against the wall, content to watch Utena drift into the armory and look around in distracted awe. As she began to take notice of the rows of gleaming steel, he stepped forward - but not as close as he would have liked. He had no desire to violate her personal space, not when he was on thin ice with her already.

"Utena?" Touga kept his voice low and smooth, suppressing both insinuation and nerves. "There's something I want to show you."

The skeptical look she turned on him wasn't very reassuring. "I don't have to close my eyes, do I?"

The red-haired playboy hastily revised the plan. "No! No, of course not. Just wait here - it's a surprise."

At her slightly amused nod, he crossed the lambent rose on the floor and vanished into the shadows in the back of the hall. Utena examined a row of rapiers, politely keeping her back to the direction Touga had gone but making sure she wasn't so caught up in the exquisite swords that he could sneak up on her. It wasn't that she thought he would actually try something - that didn't seem to be his style - but she didn't know him well enough to trust him.

Touga took his time crossing the armory to where Utena waited with her back to him. Originally, the plan had called for him presenting the gift to her by itself, free of any containment. The look she'd given him, however, was a reminder that the overdone princely gestures didn't work on her and in fact had the opposite of the desired effect. Furthermore, she hadn't been fooled at dinner. If she had gotten angry over him ignoring the nurse's orders for something as simple as dinner, she would not appreciate him doing so in the name of trying to impress her. That left him with the problem of presentation...and he was out of time.

"Don't look!" he blurted out.

Utena stopped mid-turn, then faced the wall of rapiers again. It did not escape Touga's attention that her hand was very close to the hilt of the one on the end, and that she could draw it easily. He had to think fast. How could he make this presentation touching without using his right hand at all?

"Can I look now?"

"Not yet!" Ego was roughly trampled by panic. No time to think of an alternative, go with the only thing coming to mind... "Alright, now you can look."

The infamous playboy on one knee, head bowed, was not what she expected to see. For just a moment she couldn't identify what he was holding out to her, but then she saw the gold trim on the black sheath that nearly blended in with his pants and realized it was a sword. The pommel nut was a rose carved out of a single red gem, the hilt black with what looked like golden vines in place of wire wrapping. The guard also had stylized vine elements on both of the gold, vaguely wave-shaped halves that surged together to embrace a teal oval of some unidentified stone. Touga was holding the slender sheath with his left hand, letting it lean against his right wrist in an unmistakable offer. And he still had his head bowed.

Gingerly, she grasped the hilt. It felt like it had been made just for her hand. The blade rang softly as she drew it. She admired the mirror finish on the blade, and a few test swings proved the balance was superb.

"Do you like it?"

Utena turned back to Touga, who still had not moved. "It's wonderful."

Tension she hadn't realized was there drained out of his posture and he raised his head, elation quickly hidden behind a more neutral smile. "Then it's yours."

"Thank you," she said, accepting the gold-bound sheath with the hand not holding the sword. This was definitely not what she had expected Touga's surprise to be. "Thank you so much." The words seemed inadequate somehow, but a glance at the lord of the castle showed that he was practically glowing with the reflection of her awe-tinged joy.

When they left the armory, Utena bore the sword on a brand new sword belt and Touga bore a seed of hope.

               *********************************************************

When Touga and Utena reached the door to the Pink room, he smiled and asked something Saionji and Wakaba couldn't make out from their hiding place behind some curtains. Utena laughed and replied, and with little half-bows to each other they parted ways; she into her room, he off in the direction of his.

Wakaba grinned, hands on her hips. "Oh, would you look at that?"

Saionji chuckled. "I knew it would work." He began fastening his open jacket. "This is very encouraging. You know what to do."

The assistant cook nodded, straightening her own clothing. "Good luck. I'll see you in the morning." She glanced back at the maitre'd hopefully.

He didn't disappoint.

Breathless and blushing, Wakaba knocked on the door to the Pink room and was admitted. Smirking and very pleased with himself, Saionji sauntered off after his Master.

               *********************************************************

"You gave her _what?_ "

Touga slid the red silk off awkwardly, unbothered by the shocked outburst from his maitre'd.

"Don't you realize what she could do with that?"

The lord of the castle gave Saionji an unreadable look, one eyebrow raised. "You think she could?" The green-haired man faltered to a stop. "You really think she could?"

Saionji glared off to the side. "Look what she's done so far."

"Oh? And what _has_ she done?" Touga asked frostily.

"Wrapped you around her little finger." He sneered. "You _love_ her. You'd do _anything_ for her, wouldn't you? Let her wear your clothes. Arrange a seven-course meal for her. Allow her the run of the castle." He paused to level a look of disgust at the redhead. "Give her the Sword of Dios. Why not just explain everything to her? Tell her the truth about the sword. Tell her why that girl is in a glass coffin. Or maybe you’d prefer to keep all of that from her, and keep her in this castle forever." The sneer came back, accompanied by a cruel grin. “After all, if she manages to wake the Rose Bride, where does that leave you?”

Touga’s smile was equally sharp and cruel. “That depends on what her dream is, now doesn’t it?”

Not for the first time, Saionji wondered if his Master had withheld information about the curse. This time, however, he also wondered exactly what Utena had told the red-haired playboy while they were alone together and if there was more than one secret agenda revolving around the pink-haired girl.

"Oh, Saionji?" The lord of the castle smirked at his still-shocked maitre'd. "It seem that with my injuries, I'm not able to manage these laces. In the absence of my majordomo, you'll have to assist me." Fingers brushing the front of his pants elaborated wordlessly.

The green-haired man growled under his breath and knelt before the Playboy. Seeing to his Master's needs effectively ended the conversation.

                *********************************************************

“He gave you a sword?” Wakaba was less than impressed.

Utena nodded, drawing the sword and letting the light play off the shining steel. “He said a prince should have a sword. Once his wrist and back heal a bit, he wants me to spar with him.”

“Still. He gave you a _sword_. All that set-up for something so…unromantic. I don’t get it at all.”

“This was romantic in a way.” The sword slid home in its scabbard and Utena unbuckled the sword belt.

“Swords aren’t romantic! Jewelry is romantic, and nice clothes are a bonus…but not weaponry.”

“He’s having a new wardrobe made for me.”

Wakaba blinked at that. “Okay, that’s a start. But still, why a sword?”

“Because he’s afraid,” Utena said quietly. “He’s afraid that if he does something more traditionally romantic, I’ll leave.”

“But then…why the fancy dinner?”

Utena shrugged. “He’s got a reputation to maintain, doesn’t he? I’m just sorry you and Saionji and the other two had to do all that work.”

“Oh, don’t worry about us.” Wakaba waved the issue away with one hand. “Saionji insisted the staff make ten servings of every dish, and he picked the two prettiest to serve you two, while we got to eat the rest. But enough about that, tell me the good stuff!”

“The good stuff?” Utena blinked, a little startled by how intently her friend was leaning forward.

“You know! What did he say when we weren’t around?”

“Oh, that. Well, you were right, he didn’t hit on me when no one else was there to hear it. We mostly just made small talk at dinner. I think he’s trying to figure out how to not be a sleazy playboy.” She grinned. “It’s kind of cute.”

“Utena! You’re not-!”

The pink-haired girl lay back on the bed, left hand held up so she could look at the Rose Crest. “Relax, Wakaba. I’m not about to go jumping into bed with him. He’s still a playboy, and there’s no way my Prince would be a shameless man-slut like him.” She tucked both hands behind her head, watching Wakaba in the mirror. “I think there’s hope for him, though.”

Wakaba leaned against one of the carved bedposts. “What do you mean?”

“He seems to be trying to be a decent guy. He’s learning from his mistakes, and I think given time, he could actually learn to not be a selfish bastard. I don’t have _those_ kind of feelings for him, but I’d feel bad discouraging him. Does that make sense?”

The reflection of Wakaba looked away thoughtfully for a long minute. “Saionji thinks that Master Touga might have to actually stop being the Playboy in order to break the curse, and that Master Touga would do just about anything for you.”

This did not help Utena’s inner conflict about which was the real Touga, Playboy or would-be Prince. “We’ll see,” she said finally, and yawned.

“It’s late,” Wakaba said, stifling her own yawn. “I’ll be back in the morning with breakfast, okay?”

“Okay. ‘Night, Wakaba.”

The assistant cook slid off the oversize bed. “’Night, Utena.”

Utena brushed her teeth and changed into the laundered black pajamas, then slipped back into bed and lay awake wondering if urging Touga to change would be using her power over him for good.

                *********************************************************

Somewhere in Ohtori, a man with pink hair triple-checked the message on his screen, then hit ‘send’. Elsewhere, a screen flashed that a new message had arrived. A dark-skinned hand stretched out one long, slender finger and tapped a button. Green eyes narrowed, taking in the picture and profile of the next girl chosen to be sacrificed for the End of the World.

 


	11. Wakaba hates pity parties

Miki escorted this morning's girl back through the Master's wing with a troubled mind. She was pretty, and she had been one of the Master's favorites, but while he'd poured on the charm and had her feeding him breakfast by hand, he had not taken advantage of her as he usually did. While by no means as good at information-gathering as his sister, the blue-haired boy had been making discreet inquiries, and the answers disturbed him. Since that Utena girl had arrived unannounced, Master Touga had been acting...oddly. The list of people he had...dallied...with since then could be counted on one hand. Yes, he had sustained back injuries and the wrist would make things awkward, but Miki couldn't shake the feeling that the lord of the castle was losing his touch somehow. The girl turned left to return the empty breakfast tray to the kitchen, and Miki turned right to find his sister. If anyone would be able to assemble a picture of Master Touga's recent sexual activity, she could.

                *********************************************************

Saionji was waiting for Wakaba when she left Utena's room, and they walked together in silence for a minute towards the kitchen, then ducked into an unused room and left the tray of dishes on a decorative table while they assumed an incriminatingly entangled position in the corner. Should any castle servant peek in, the intertwining limbs would ensure that there would be no questions asked.

"What did you find out?"

"She says she doesn't have _that kind_ of feelings for him, but he's growing on her." Wakaba paused to moan as footsteps approached the door. Once they had passed, Saionji lifted his mouth from her neck and she continued. "She says she doesn't want to discourage him from trying to be a decent person. I don't think it will be long before she tries to encourage him to stop being the Playboy."

The maitre'd slid one hand inside her blouse for the benefit of anyone who might wander by. "You really think she'd try to help him like that?"

Wakaba nodded. "She got into fights all the time at her old school to protect students from bullies, but she doesn't stop at protecting. If she can, she'll try to help the victim be stronger." She blushed slightly, then lifted her chin. "That's how I got the courage to talk to you."

That made Saionji smirk. "Well then, we will encourage our pink-haired Prince to encourage the wounded Playboy to change his ways, and hope she has as much success with him as she has with you."

Whether or not Saionji had been hinting, Wakaba took the hint. It was several minutes before they retrieved the tray and left the room.

                *********************************************************

Touga glared at the jar of ointment the nurse had left him, and specifically at the tight-fitting lid that he wasn't able to open with just one hand, no matter how hard he tried. Oh, and he had tried - he had no desire to have to ask someone for help. It was one thing to exaggerate a weakness in order to manipulate those around him, but quite another to actually be weak. As much as he hated to do this, he would hate even more for the cut on his face to scar. He tugged the bell pull in the corner and sauntered to the front of the wing, ignoring the little voice that whispered hopefully about Utena finding this endearing as well as her protecting his image.

The girl who scurried up to the doors of the Master's wing looked hopeful at the sight of Touga in a black silk dressing gown, and the smile he lavished on her was full of promises he didn't intend to keep, but instead of commanding her inside she found herself on her way to the Pink room to tell Utena that the lord of the castle desired her presence.

                *********************************************************

Message delivered, the girl scurried off with an envious look tossed over her shoulder. Utena closed the door to her room and leaned against it with a sigh. It certainly sounded like Touga wanted her to come to the Master bedroom for wild sex, but after last night, she couldn't take anything at face value with him. She groaned. If she went, she risked playing right into a Playboy setup. But if she didn't go, she'd feel bad because he probably had innocent - well, maybe not innocent, but benign - intentions.

_What kind of Prince would I be..._

There was no helping it, she was going to have to go see what Touga wanted. A few moments spent buckling the unfamiliar sword belt over her school uniform, and the pink-haired girl ventured forth to find out what was going on. To her surprise, she didn’t have to go all the way to the Master bedroom to find Touga – he was waiting for her in a sitting room close to the front of the wing, on a powder-blue sofa, with a jar and a sheepish grin.

“Is that…?”

“The ointment the nurse left for the cuts,” Touga confirmed. “I can’t open it with my wrist the way it is.”

Utena closed her eyes, exasperation warring with sympathy. “And you couldn’t have asked someone else to open it for you? Wait, don’t answer that.” She held up one hand, eyes still closed, to forestall whatever she was sure he was going to say. She had no doubt he was trying to maintain his image, and trusted her to keep his weakness quiet as she had the last two nights. “You’re such a big baby,” she said, opening her eyes.

In response, he gave her his best ‘love the baby’ look, then grinned. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, give it here.”

The lid was actually rather stiff, erasing some of the exasperation. It twisted off with a quiet pop, revealing a thick, creamy goop that smelled faintly of herbs and roses. When she looked up to hand the jar back, Touga was giving her a look of painfully vulnerable hope. He quickly hid it behind a charming smile, but now that she’d seen it, she’d feel guilty if she just handed it back and left. On the other hand, she didn’t want to do anything that would lead him on. And now he was staring curiously at her. Great.

“Look,” she said, blushing, “don’t get the wrong idea. I’m looking for a Prince, not a Playboy pretending to be one.” Oh, that came out harsher than she’d intended. Was that a flash of hurt in his eyes? “But I’m a prince, and princes don’t abandon people in need. So just hold still, princess, and don’t make me regret this.”

The surprised gratitude swallowed up the flare of offended ego at being called a princess, and the redhead stilled as Utena dipped one finger in the ointment and brought the loaded fingertip to his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed at her gentle touch, and she wondered if he was aware of the expression of contentment and joy that suffused his features. As she ran her finger down his cheek to cover the cut with ointment, he trembled very slightly as though resisting the urge to lean into her touch.

_If he does this with everyone, no wonder he’s able to seduce so many._

When she pulled her finger away, Touga’s eyes fluttered open with disappointment.

“I’m not applying this through that robe,” she said, amusement warring with another blush, “and I’m not about to undress you. So…”

Surprise, anticipation, joy, and dismay chased themselves around on his face for a minute while Utena grew more amused. Finally, he turned away with what looked suspiciously like a blush staining his pale cheeks.

“Turn around,” he muttered. Utena raised one eyebrow. “…please,” he added. When she didn’t move, the blush deepened. “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

Utena turned around.

While she listened to cloth rustling, she realized with a jolt that he’d actually expressed not only consideration, but _shame_. Considering the utter lack of concern for his lack of modest covering only yesterday, that spoke loudly for how much her opinion meant to him. It made her more than a little uncomfortable with how much power she seemed to have over him.

“You can look now,” Touga said from behind her.

When she turned around, he had wrapped the black silk around his waist and was now reclining on the couch, head propped up on one blue-upholstered arm. Utena hooked a matching stool with one foot and sat by the couch to smear medicinal goop on the cuts scattered across his chest. Again, the wounded redhead relaxed at her touch like a cat being petted. The amusing thought of him purring came to mind, and Utena stifled her grin. By the time she was done, he looked so deeply relaxed that she wondered if he was asleep. He opened his eyes lazily as she was screwing the lid loosely back onto the jar, however, and didn’t bother trying to hide the look of contented adoration.

“Thank you, noble prince,” he said with a gentle smile.

Utena tried very hard not to blush at the genuine gratitude in his voice. “You’re welcome. Um, do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you. I’m going to rest here for a bit before lunch.”

“You did lose a good amount of blood,” Utena said.

On impulse, she smoothed the hair away from his temple with the hand that hadn’t gotten covered in goop. It was softer than hers, cool and silky now that it wasn’t crusted with dried blood. Again, Touga closed his eyes, the expression of yearning on his face making her feel guilty.

“Have a good nap,” she said awkwardly.

When he didn’t reply, she stood up and set the jar on the stool she’d been using. One last glance at his relaxed face, and she quietly made her way out of the Master’s wing. When the door’s muffled _boom_ announced that she was gone, Touga sighed and wondered if he had the strength to throw away everything he was in order to become what she wanted.

                *********************************************************

While exploring the castle, Utena found a hallway that, while other corridors branched off of or intersected it, made a perfect circle. Once she’d made a complete circuit, she stood in the hall and tried to remember if there had been anything suitable for jogging in Touga’s closet. Going back to check would mean passing the redhead napping on a couch, however, and Utena didn’t really want to have another run-in with him just yet. It had already, if belatedly, occurred to her that if her merely being uncomfortable with him naked had made such an impression, telling him she wasn’t interested in a Playboy pretending to be a Prince was likely to have a much more profound effect.

Reluctantly, she turned and headed back to her room. When she got there, she discovered that the seamstresses had already been and gone. The wardrobe was full of an assortment of clothes ranging from formal to casual, suitable for bed, bath, and exercise. The formal clothes, she had expected. The rest of it…not so much. Already feeling more charitable towards the wounded playboy, Utena grabbed a selection appropriate for working out and changed quickly, then headed back to the circular hallway for a good, long run.

                 *********************************************************

Kouze didn’t normally have much contact with the castle’s maitre’d. Her brother’s little not-so-subtle interrogation had aroused her interest, however, and she was checking his facts. So far, every inquiry had come up negative except for Ruka – and the only one left was Saionji. She found him in the kitchen, overseeing the preparation of both the staff’s lunch, and the Master’s. He came over at her nod towards a quiet alcove, too curious for his natural suspicion to warn him away.

“Has Master Touga had you at all since Utena came to the castle?”

Saionji raised both eyebrows. Kouze apparently didn’t see a point in beating around the bush. “Yes, he has. Why do you want to know?”

“My brother is concerned that he’s somehow losing his touch. Were you aware that you and Ruka are the only two he’s been with since she arrived?”

“That’s news to me.” The green eyebrows climbed higher still. “He hasn’t had any girl at all?”

Kouze shook her head. “I’m the last one he’d been with, and that was when Miki told him there was an unauthorized girl in the castle.” She gave him a penetrating look. “She’s the one, isn’t she? Utena. She’s the one that’s going to break the curse.”

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions.” Saionji glanced around to see if anyone was listening, deliberately confirming for the blue-haired girl that he’d _already_ jumped to that conclusion. “After all, Master Touga sustained injuries to the wrist and back that make most positions difficult at best, and that’s on top of the anemia from blood loss. I’m sure he’ll be back to normal as soon as he’s recovered.”

The stilted tone of his words, however, told Kouze clearly that he thought no such thing.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” she said quietly, “and let you know what I find. I’m sure you’re just as concerned for Master Touga’s health as I am.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

As Kouze walked off, Saionji grinned. He understood, all right. The head laundress had just joined the team.

                 *********************************************************

Majordomo Miki strode into the kitchen as though it had challenged his right to be there. He stood in the center of the bustling room, hands on his hips, and looked around until he found his target.

“Assistant cook Wakaba.”

The entire room stilled. The girl in question turned slowly, almost insolently. “Yes, majordomo?”

“You are to deliver lunch to Master Touga. Now.”

“But I’m bringing lunch to Utena!”

“Not today. The Master has asked for you specifically.”

A good number of the kitchen staff made sounds of envy. Saionji noticed the very angry glint in Wakaba’s eyes, and stepped smoothly forward to head off what promised to be a messy confrontation.

“I’ll take Utena’s lunch to her,” he said, one hand on her shoulder.

Immediately, the fight went out of the girl’s posture. “All right.”

Miki nodded in cold satisfaction and waited until the coveted tray had been handed to Wakaba, then marched out of the kitchen with her following.

                 *********************************************************

After a refreshing run and an equally refreshing shower, Utena wrapped herself in one towel and her hair in another and left the steamy embrace of the bathroom to explore the contents of her new wardrobe. She wasn’t expecting the meal set up on the low table, and she certainly wasn’t expecting Saionji to be in the room. He had his back deliberately turned, at least, and he was nowhere near the wardrobe, but it was still not something that made her feel comfortable. Instead of perusing her new clothing choices, Utena just grabbed her school uniform and pulled it on as quickly as she could.

“What are you doing in my room?”

Saionji remained in the corner with his back to her. “May I turn around?”

Briefly, Utena considered telling him no. “Yes,” she sighed, shaking her hair out of the towel. “Now, what are you doing in my room?”

“Delivering your lunch,” he replied snidely, seating himself at the table without bothering to ask permission. “Wakaba has been selected to deliver Touga’s to him, so I brought yours in her place.”

“How very kind of you.” Utena sat as well, helping herself.

Saionji favored her with a look of cool superiority. “New as you are to the castle, you may be unaware of the fact that Touga generally helps himself not only to the food, but to the one who brought it. However,” he said as Utena started to protest. “I learned from Kouze that our beloved playboy has not partaken of female flesh since your arrival.” He gave her a minute to digest that.

“You don’t think he’s going to seduce her? But then why-?”

“Information,” Saionji said. “I think he wants information about you.”

                 *********************************************************

Miki opened the double doors to the Master’s wing and ushered Wakaba inside. They closed with a muted thud that made her flinch and shove away thoughts of being trapped. She stood there in the first sitting room, unwilling to venture deeper into the Master’s den. After a minute or two, Touga came out to see where she was. He was wearing white trimmed with red, an outfit that the brunette slowly realized was the uniform of the Student Council President.

“Sit, please.” Touga waved gracefully to an elegant table and suited actions to words. Gingerly, Wakaba followed his lead. “Relax, I’m not going to bite.”

She colored at his lazy smirk, furious at herself for responding at all. Unable to think of something appropriate to reply with, she settled for roughly unloading lunch from the tray. The lord of the castle watched her thoughtfully.

“You’re still angry at me for that?”

Wakaba’s head jerked up, cheeks darkening with shame as well as anger. She averted her eyes. “Yes.”

“Good.”

The shame vanished, consumed by rage. “Good?”

“Good,” Touga repeated, the smug fading from his expression. “You won’t mince words with me.”

“What are you talking about?” Wakaba asked, a bit uncertain now.

“You’re Utena’s friend. She came here originally to find you. She talks to you. I want to know what she thinks of me.”

“Why, so you can seduce her the way you did everyone else?”

Touga looked away, glaring at the carpet with such heat that she almost expected it to burst into flames. “I love her,” he spat.

“Look me in the eye and say that,” Wakaba demanded, not quite believing what she’d just heard. Still glaring, the redhead obeyed.

“I love her. I trust you will keep this secret.”

The realization that she held power over the feared and beloved Playboy made Wakaba giddy. “That depends on what you’re going to do about it.”

“Tell me how she feels first.”

“She doesn’t love you,” Wakaba said bluntly.

Touga flinched visibly, eyes closed, breathing ragged as he hunched over, one white-knuckled hand gripping the edge of the table and the other creeping up to his heart. She watched as pain changed to resignation and the cringe to a defeated slump, feeling like she’d just stabbed him in the heart. He forced a neutral mask onto his face soon enough and straightened as though nothing had happened, and Wakaba suddenly understood everything Utena had said about there being hope for him. She wished she could discuss this with Saionji; this was a splendid opportunity for the plan. The maitre’d wasn’t here, however, and she took her courage in both hands, determined to make the most of this chance and do the best she could.

“She doesn’t love you…but she thinks there’s hope for you.”

That caught him off guard. “What? Hope?”

The look Wakaba gave him wasn’t quite a glare, but it was close. “She thinks you could learn to not be a heartless bastard.”

“Is that how she sees me, then?”

“Heartless bastard. Sleazy playboy. Shameless man-slut. Take your pick.” She felt bad for verbally kicking him when he was down, but ignored it. If Saionji was right and he’d do anything for Utena, then she was going to twist the knife as much as she had to. Not only for Utena, but for Saionji…and herself…and all the others trapped in the castle.

“I see.” Touga picked up his fork, looked at his plate, put the fork back down. “Why doesn’t she tell me to get lost, then?”

“Like I said, she thinks there’s hope for you, and she doesn’t want to discourage you from trying to be a decent guy.“

“So it’s pity, then.” He leaned forward so that his hair hid his face, the cloud of gloom nearly visible around him.

Wakaba slammed one hand down on the table, making the dishes rattle. “No. It’s not. She’s trying to help you, you ungrateful bastard.”

Touga looked up, startled out of his self-absorbed misery. “Why?”

The look Wakaba gave him was pure lemon juice in the emotional cuts she’d already inflicted on him. “Because she’s a prince, and that’s what princes do.”

 


	12. Like a rose petal blowing free

“…and that’s when he told me I could go,” Wakaba finished.

There was silence around the low table in the Pink room. Saionji seemed frozen in an expression of shock warring with pride at his assistant cook’s ruthlessness, but Utena looked more troubled.

“Did he hit on you?”

“No, come to think of it.”

That seemed to shake Saionji out of his shock. “And you said he was wearing the Student Council uniform?” At Wakaba’s nod, he turned to look at Utena in awe. “You’re doing it. You’re really doing it.”

“I’m doing what?”

“He’s trying to change.”

Utena looked even more troubled at that. “Well, at least I’m not leading him on,” she sighed. “Still, I don’t feel right doing this to him. We’re destroying a person. Even if we’re doing that with good intentions, who are we to decide what someone should be?”

Saionji raised one eyebrow at Wakaba as if to say _is she serious?_ Wakaba shrugged at him with an expression of _I told you so._

“I’ve known Touga since we were children,” he said slowly. “He wasn’t always this way. He used to care about people other than himself. He used to want to help people who needed it.” The green-haired man leaned back, a faint smile on his face as he gazed up at the ceiling. “I remember one time…it was raining, and we were trying to get back before it got too dark to see. But he insisted we stop to check out a nearby church and see if a missing girl was in there.”

Utena sat up in shock. “Missing girl?”

“Mm. There was a girl who’d gone missing right before her parents’ funeral. Touga found her hiding spot. I tried to convince her to come out, but he just stroked her hair and told her that he understood, that he’d keep her secret. I think he meant to come back the next day and rescue her, a prince saving the vulnerable princess, but she came out on her own before we got there. The look on his face…” Saionji shook his head. “Part of him was disappointed that he hadn’t been the one to save her, but the rest of him was happy that she was okay.” He looked at Utena. “I haven’t seen him smile like that in years. The boy he was back then would have been appalled at the man he’s become. If we have to cause him a little pain to get him to come out of his coffin-”

“Coffin?” Utena asked sharply.

“Yes, coffin. The girl was hiding in a coffin. Touga’s hiding inside himself the same way she was hiding from the world.”

He kept talking, but Utena wasn’t listening. She was remembering thunder, rain on the roof and roses under her cheek, two voices arguing about her and then silence. She was remembering the scent of roses, a white glove, and a girl whose green eyes were full of pain and empty of hope.

_Back then, you said you didn't want to come out of the coffin. But what you were really saying was, 'save me'._

“He’s the one in the coffin,” she murmured. “He’s the one who wants to be saved.”

Saionji looked at her oddly. “Haven’t you been listening?”

“Huh?” Utena looked up, startled out of her memories.

“I said- oh, never mind. We have to plan our next move. I think-”

“I want to talk to him.”

The maitre’d ground his teeth for a moment while Wakaba just looked back and forth between them, fascinated by seeing the two strong wills clash against each other.

“Not yet,” Saionji said. “Let him brood a bit. He won’t want to come out for dinner; he’ll have a tray sent to his wing so he doesn’t have to face you before he gets his masks back into place. He’ll expect me to bring it. You’ll go instead.”

“That works.”

“Good. Let’s get back to the kitchen. Wakaba and I need to start on dinner anyway. You can lend a hand, or just stand around and chit-chat, I don’t care. But you need to be there and look comfortable when Miki arrives to replay Touga’s request, or he’ll question why you’re offering to bring dinner to the Master.”

Utena stood and belted on her sword, not noticing the look of disbelieving outrage Saionji quickly stifled. “All right. Let’s do this.”

                 *********************************************************

With both the ever-cheerful Wakaba and the aloof but adored Saionji to vouch for her, Utena found herself welcomed in the huge, bustling kitchen. She'd never been interested in something as domestic as cooking and had no skill for it, but she was more than willing to lend a hand doing fetching or other menial tasks. By the time Miki stalked in to announce that Master Touga would be taking dinner in his rooms, the kitchen staff was laughing and joking with Utena as though she'd been there all along. The tray was assembled quickly, and one more call of 'Oh, Utena, can you get that for me?' blended right in with the rest of the din. It wasn't until the door closed behind her that Miki realized that last call had been from Saionji, and thus, Utena was now on her way to the Master's wing.

"Saionji!" The name came out as an angry - but discreet - hiss. "You were supposed to take that!"

The maitre'd glanced over his shoulder lazily. "Oh? You really think Master Touga will object to the change?"

Unable to muster a retort, the majordomo stalked out of the kitchen.

                 *********************************************************

_Why are there so many rooms in this wing, anyway?_

Utena peered into every room with a door, bedrooms and sitting rooms alike, looking for Touga. She doubted he would be in the grand Master's bedroom if his ego had taken such a bruising, but aside from that, she had no idea where to find him. Balancing the tray with one arm, she opened the door to yet another sitting room and peered in. This one had a game table and two chairs set up by a fireplace set in the right-hand wall, and two comfortably upholstered wingback chairs set up on the left side of the room. Utena was about to close the door when she realized two things. First, the fireplace had a fire going in it. Second, one of the wingback chairs had been turned to face the corner. It was big enough that she couldn't see if anyone was sitting in it, but she was willing to bet this was where Touga had holed up.

"Just set it on the table." The voice coming from the chair was Touga's, but he sounded so...depressed. "And don't even start. I don't want to hear it, and your little friend probably said it all already."

One eyebrow raised at the sulky command, Utena sat the tray on the game table.

"If you're going to leave, then leave. If you want to stay and gloat silently, I won't stop you."

Unwilling to leave without a chance to talk to the would-be prince, Utena sat in the other wingback chair. She could see an arm and part of a leg, now, but the back of the chair hid Touga's face completely. Once she'd settled, she heard him sigh.

"You love seeing me like this, don't you? No, don't answer. I know the glee you take in seeing me defeated. You've wanted to see the great Playboy brought down since the beginning."

Utena had the suspicion that it wasn't her Touga thought he was talking to.

"The worst part is, I don't _want_ this second curse lifted. I know you're smirking. Smirk away. The one who mocked love and broke dreams, now helplessly in love with his own dreams broken. I thought I'd gotten rid of this idealism years ago. Damnit!" He beat one fist against the arm of the chair. "How much of this was your doing, Saionji? What kind of plot did you hatch? No, don't answer. I don't care. I know you want to break the curse. If I knew how to break it, I'd tell you, but I don't." He sighed again. "It's all in her hands. There's nothing more you or I can do. Hah." The laugh sounded more like pain than humor. "That Wakaba girl was part of your plan, wasn't she? You used her to string me along with false hope, trying to get me to change my ways."

He was silent for a long time, and Utena wondered if he was waiting for an answer.

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to change them anyway, even if I don't have a chance of winning her love. Love. Such a silly, stupid thing. A belief for the weak, and yet...I don't want to give it up. The Playboy is gone. You can tell the staff if you want, but they'll find out soon enough. I don't want anyone but her. I may not be able to become the Prince she's looking for, but I don't want to be the _shameless man-slut_ she sees me as."

The arm vanished from the arm of the chair, and a muffled groan hinted that his face was in his hands.

"Ahhh, Utena. You were right, I'd do anything for her. But nothing I could do would make me worthy of being her Prince. It's all hopeless." The arm flopped back down, hand dangling limply. After a long enough pause for Utena to start feeling very guilty, he started laughing weakly. "It's all hopeless...but I can't just give up. She has hope for me, even if I have none for myself, and I don't want to disappoint her. It wouldn't be princely." The arm withdrew again briefly, as though smoothing unseen hair off the redhead's face and when he spoke again, the defeated tone was gone. "Go let Miki know I want Keiko early in the morning, and I'll be taking all my meals in the dining room with Utena unless I say otherwise. And find that nurse - I want her to look at my back and tell me when I can get these damn bandages off."

Taking that as a dismissal, Utena stood up and began moving to the door.

"Oh, and Saionji?"

Utena paused.

"Thank you for not saying anything." The words came out awkwardly, as though he weren't used to sincerely thanking anyone.

The pink-haired prince slipped out the door before Touga could see who he'd been talking to, touched and troubled by the confession she shouldn't have heard. She would relay the commands, but she would have to do some serious thinking before she told either of her fellow conspirators anything else he'd said.

                 *********************************************************

It was Wakaba who noticed Utena coming down the hall. She darted back into the kitchen and whispered to Saionji, who left off what he was doing with an absent command for her to take over and strode out to meet the pink-haired girl and deflect her into an alcove.

"Well?"

Utena gave him a cool look. "He said to tell Miki that he wants Keiko early in the morning, he's going to take all his meals in the dining room with me unless he says otherwise, and he wants the nurse to look at his back and see when the bandages can come off."

The maitre'd processed this for a moment, then focused on her again. "And what else?"

"That's private."

Saionji rolled his eyes. "Did you find out whatever you wanted to talk to him about?"

Utena took a moment to consider this. "Yes."

When nothing else was forthcoming, he ground his teeth in frustration. "Well, since you're not going to share what you've learned, what do you suggest?"

"Give him time. He'll change."

"You're sure of that, then?"

She met his skeptical look with one of iron determination. "Positive."

                 *********************************************************

Given the things she'd just learned, it was natural that Utena would want to think about them someplace where she wouldn't be disturbed. Unfortunately, that meant her room was not the place to go. Saionji might be willing to let the subject drop for now, but Wakaba wouldn't. The Master's wing would be private enough, but she had no desire to run into Touga before she'd sorted everything out in her own mind. She could always wander - she did her best thinking when she was in motion - but then she risked getting lost again. There were courtyards, but it would be dark soon. In the end, Utena changed back into running clothes, strapped the sword back on, and went running in the circular hallway. Having the sword with her took a bit of getting used to, but she didn't feel right leaving it behind.

After some stretching and warming up, Utena settled into a steady pace. The hall was free of obstacles and deserted enough that she could tune out what her body was doing, and start wrestling with the issue at hand.

Touga.

He and Saionji had been the voices in the church that night. He'd wanted to rescue her from her pain, and apparently remembered her ten years later. That explained him stroking her hair, at least. But now he was the one in the coffin crying out to be saved, and she was the prince. The next two laps were devoted to wondering what had happened for him to change so drastically, and if maybe - deep down - he didn't really want to be a playboy. Had he dreamed of being a prince? Was that the dream he'd said was broken? Despite what he may have wanted, Touga hadn't been the one to free her from her coffin; she'd found the strength to do that on her own with a bit of guidance from the Prince.

When she thought about it that way, it didn't feel so awkward that he was doing all of this because of her. Twice she'd called him a princess, but she hadn't been serious. What if he'd taken that to heart, and saw her as a prince, and was climbing out of his coffin with a bit of guidance from her? That, she could deal with. Her Prince had told her to not lose her strength or nobility; she in turn had told Touga to not seduce everyone in sight. Was that really so different? She grinned, tossing her hair back over her shoulder, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her heart. No one was imposing their ideas of how he should be on him, he was changing of his own free will because-

He loved her.

_That_ killed the elation. What was she going to do about that? She didn't want to hurt him any more than she apparently already had, but she wasn't about to give her heart to a shameless playboy. He'd vowed to change that, though. If he did change his ways and stop man-slutting, stop trying to charm everyone into bed, stop trying to kill people's dreams, could she love him? Did she want to?

The way he'd leaned into her touch on more than one occasion leaped to mind in heart-wrenching clarity. Well, okay, that was adorable. She could get used to the idea of a handsome, charming, gallant man who melted beneath her fingertips...provided it wasn't an act. That was the sticking point - how could she trust that he really had changed?

Utena pondered that for half a lap.

Kouze had the gossip on everyone in the castle. Maybe she'd be willing to keep an ear out and see if Touga was being honest, or seducing the servants on the sly. She'd have to ask later.

With that little tangle worked out, Utena watched the doors flash past and turned down the one that would lead to her room. She'd have just enough time to shower before bed; after all, she'd have to get up early to get dressed in time to have breakfast with her would-be prince in the morning.

                 *********************************************************

Miki watched the pink-haired girl run right by him without even noticing he was there. A little offended that he was ignored like that, he continued down the round central hallway, walking in the direction Utena had come from. Before he reached the branching hallway he'd been heading towards, the sound of pounding feet came to him from the hallway ahead. When it sounded like the runner was about to round the curve, he courteously veered to the edge of the hall - only to have Utena run right by him _again_ , still without taking notice of his presence. And was that a sword she was wearing? Who takes a sword jogging?

A nagging familiarity about the sword made him hold his position, waiting for her to come around again. When she did, he ignored her and focused on the blade bouncing at her hip. Eyes narrowed now, lips compressed into a thin line of outrage, he continued on his way to the Master's Wing. The lord of the castle was waiting for him in the Master bedroom and Miki began the nightly ritual of undressing without a word, still full of suppressed fury.

"I haven't even said anything," the redhead said with mild amusement. "What's wrong, Miki?"

"You gave her the _Sword of Dios?_ "

Touga watched his majordomo select red satin pajamas with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary, mildly amused.

"Don't bother chiding me; Saionji already said everything last night. Yes, I gave her the sword. Yes, I know what she could do with it, and I hope she does."

"You-" Miki stopped and stared at Touga in shock. " _What?_ "

"I hope she does. And I think she could," he added as an afterthought. When the younger boy didn't respond, he held one arm out imperiously and Miki responded automatically, helping the redhead into his pajamas.

"But...if she does, what will happen to us?"

"I imagine you'll all be released," Touga said calmly.

Again, the majordomo stared in shock. "Are you feeling all right, Master Touga?"

Was he? The would-be prince thought about it for a moment, weighing everything he had been against everything he could be, fear against hope.

"Yes," he said finally. "I am."

 


	13. Telephone, television, tell Kouze

When Touga woke up, his first thought was to tear the bandages off his right wrist, which he did. Gleefully. He left them scattered across the bed and prowled across the room, flexing hand and wrist tentatively, to the bathroom. He washed his hands vengefully, triumphant in being able to use both of them again. It would be a few more days before the bandages on his back could be removed, but at least those injuries weren't causing pain anymore. Too impatient to wait for Keiko, he entered the closet and started browsing through the hangers. Today was an important day, and he was particularly anxious to look stunning.

Today, he would begin proving to Utena that he was no longer the Playboy. He would break out of the role the curse had placed him in, like a-

Touga paused. Blinked. Shook his head, chuckling at the twist on the old phrase.

"If it cannot break out of its shell, the chick will die without ever being born." The words rolled out with the comfort of long familiarity. He grinned. "I am the chick; the Playboy is my egg. If I can't break the Playboy's shell, I will die without ever truly being born."

Knocking on the door interrupted the improvised speech, and Touga exited the closet to let his fashion consultant in. She would be confused and disappointed to find him charming but aloof, but a prince wouldn't lead her on as he had been doing.

_Smash the Playboy shell..._

                 *********************************************************

Utena was in the middle of brushing her teeth when she heard the door to her room open and tentative footsteps. A quick peek out of the bathroom confirmed it was Kouze, claiming her dirty laundry. She gestured frantically for the blue-haired girl to wait, then ducked back in to spit and rinse hastily.

"I have a favor to ask," she said once her mouth was no longer full of minty foam. "It may be a little...weird, but..."

Kouze just tilted her head, curious. Utena took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

 "I want to know, if you can find out, if Touga-" Blushing, Utena broke off and made suggestive hand motions. "-you know."

To her surprise, the other girl gave a sly smile. "If he has recently, or just if he does in the future?"

"Just the future," she said hastily. Kouze nodded.

"I'll keep my ears open. If I may ask, why do you want to know if he does?"

Utena thought for a moment, weighing what she knew with what she felt comfortable sharing. "He said the Playboy is gone. I want to see if he's telling the truth."

Blue eyes widened in shock. "He _said_ that?"

"He did. He said, _The Playboy is gone. You can tell the staff if you want, but they'll find out soon enough._ "

Kouze hugged the dirty laundry to her chest. "I'll make sure the word gets out. If he does anything with anyone, I'll let you know." The look of awe she was giving Utena bordered on worship. "The curse is breaking. We're going to be free again, and it's all because of you."

"Stop that," Utena protested. "I didn't do anything. He's doing it all himself." It was clear that nothing she said was going to make Kouze believe she wasn't responsible for the change in the lord of the castle, so Utena gave up. "This is going to be all over the castle by nightfall, isn't it?"

Kouze shook her head. "Lunchtime."

Utena just sighed.

                 *********************************************************

Breakfast was a nervous event. Despite what she’d accidentally learned the day before, Utena couldn’t bring herself to let her guard down just yet. She kept expecting to see that lazily seductive smirk, or hear a well-crafted insinuation. None of it came, leaving her feeling as off-balance as if she’d been bracing against a strong wind that suddenly wasn’t there. Touga was the very model of a perfect gentleman, courteous and charming, polite and considerate – and above all, absolutely proper.

If it hadn’t been for the frequent worried looks and the moments when he stopped and looked away, taking a breath and visibly centering himself, Utena would have wondered where the clone had come from and where the real Touga’s body was.

It was painfully obvious to her that he was struggling against his playboy inclinations, and that he understood her uncertainty. She smiled and nodded encouragingly at him, trying to convey without words that she knew what he was doing. Once, when the servants were out of the room, she almost told him that he didn’t have to worry, she wasn’t going to freak out at how he was acting – but then she remembered that he thought he’d been talking to Saionji. Some twisting undercurrent of intuition whispered to her that she must not let him know that she’d overheard him, and she suddenly understood how much this was costing him. He was throwing away power and pride, desperately afraid that in the end, it would all be for nothing.

With a thought of _what kind of Prince would I be,_ Utena told her fear to go leap off the edge of the dueling arena and forced herself to treat Touga the same way she treated her male friends.

After the meal was over, Touga inquired with painfully false nonchalance if Utena would do him the honor of sparring with him. She met his eyes, acknowledging his fear of her rejection, before giving him a teasing smile and accepting with the ‘reassurance’ that she’d go easy on him due to his injuries. When one slender eyebrow arched up and he bantered back that even wounded, he was more than a match for her, she realized that she’d missed his ego. Even though it brought the fear that the Playboy still controlled him, she preferred seeing him full of self-centered confidence rather than the vulnerable, fearful thing he had become.

They walked to the main courtyard in comfortable silence. The stablemaster was waiting for them, looking healthy despite the white bandage holding back his dark blue hair. He had already hitched the flying stallions to a lacy confection of a carriage, and was holding the door open for them. Utena climbed in somewhat hesitantly, suddenly remembering that there had been no flying horses to ferry her from dueling arena to castle courtyard the day she’d arrived.

“If you wish, I can teach you how to ride them later,” Touga said quietly as they lifted off and flew up/down towards the arena.

Utena turned away from the window, not wanting to be aware of the moment when down became up. “I’d like that, thank you.”

There was silence for the rest of the brief trip. Utena couldn’t stop thinking about that odd moment of vertigo that had somehow transported her to the castle, and for the first time she wondered if her arrival _was_ destined. If, as Saionji believed, something other than chance had brought here to break the curse.

                ********************************************************* 

As Kouze promised, everyone in the castle knew that Touga had declared his intentions by the time lunch was served to the cheerfully exhausted redhead and his slightly less worn out guest. Ruka wouldn’t say anything about their sparring matches, but there were many pairs of opera glasses to be found in the castle and all of them had been trained up/down at the dueling arena. No one had to be told that the lord of the castle was enjoying himself, even when his injuries meant that Utena bested him. She appeared to be enjoying herself just as much, and guessing at their playful banter was the subject of many conversations. Those who had not seen the pink-haired girl interact with Touga had heard stories from those who had, and every eye was analyzing the way they seemed so comfortable now in each other’s presence.

There were knots of weeping girls and fuming boys, of course, jealous that their Master had eyes only for Utena. But for every former student unhappy at the change in status quo, there were two or three who dared hope that the rumors were right; that one day soon they would all return to their normal lives. Some of those resented Touga for his control over them, but some understood that he was as trapped by the curse as they were. All clusters of speculation dispersed, however, when the horses touched down in the castle courtyard. Everyone agreed that they would not speak of the change in Master Touga, but all eyes were now on him, judging, weighing every word and gesture.

The castle held its collective breath the rest of the day, watching silently as would-be Prince and no-longer Playboy circled around each other, casual smiles held up protectively, words testing the edges of the other’s guard, flicking out to score a hit here, be deflected there. If there was a scoring system in place for the verbal sparring, no one was counting points. It was clear that the once-empty heart of the Student Council President now harbored love for Utena, but no one knew how she felt about him. Wakaba, the newcomer, might have had a guess – but she refused to discuss it.

No one pressed the issue. Utena was the key to everyone’s freedom, and they knew it. The problem was that no one knew exactly how the curse was supposed to be lifted.

Unsurprisingly, Miki was one of the minority who resented her for shaking things up – and his twin’s firm support of her didn’t help. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. He was all too aware that Kouze could muster stronger support for her stance than he could dream of. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of writing to End of the World about the pink-haired interloper and her effect on the Playboy, but in the end that idea was discarded. After all, no one knew how End of the World sent the letters, and a letter can’t be sent if you don’t know where it’s going. It wasn’t that he cared about what would happen if the curse was broken, or that he enjoyed his duties as majordomo. No, what drove him wild with impotent rage was that his sister – who once ignored him in favor of doting on Master Touga – now devoted herself to Utena. And still ignored him.

It was a very sulky majordomo that assisted his Master in undressing for the night, and the lack of sexual insinuations did nothing to reassure him.

                 *********************************************************

Touga listened for the muffled _boom_ signaling that his majordomo had left the wing and eyed the vast Master’s bed with faint distaste. The enormous sea of red silk was a symbol for everything he was trying not to be. After a moment, he left the Master bedroom and considered each of the smaller bedrooms. No doubt they had been intended for a harem of favored sexual partners, but Touga had never used them that way. In the mirror-guarded hallway he stopped and took the hidden corridor to the Rose Room, arms spread absently so that his fingers brushed the walls on both sides of the corridor. As always, he wondered why the corridor was four feet wide when the room it ended in wasn’t much bigger.

The heavy velvet Utena had spread over the broken glass was gone, as was half of the broken glass. As he watched, one fragment lifted itself up out of the pile and floated upwards, fitting itself neatly into place in the stained glass window above. The castle was repairing itself. As he left, Touga wondered if it was fixing what had been broken, or seeking to undo the change that had been inflicted upon it. That was an unnerving thought; if the castle resisted change, would it try to “fix’ him? He pushed the question out of his mind as he closed the mirror door.

Maroon, black, deep purple, leaf green – none of the bedrooms closest to the Master’s appealed to him. When he reached the powder-blue couch Utena had tended him on, he paused.

_I’m looking for a Prince, not a Playboy pretending to be one._

Even in his memory, the words sliced straight through the considerable protection of a well-trained ego and pierced a heart he’d thought was sterile and hollow. With that one sentence, she’d utterly rejected everything he was and somehow conveyed her complete disdain for it. She’d rejected _him,_ and  that was more painful than he would have thought possible.

Absently, his eyes wandered up and over the walls, lighting on a powder-blue door. It opened onto a bedroom decorated in the same gentle color, and Touga knew this was where he would spend the night. The down comforter was much heavier and warmer than the silk sheets he was used to, but it made him feel comfortable. Secure. It felt good after a day of sparring with Utena, especially when his back would not allow him the luxury of a long, hot soak afterwards. He ached all over, and not just from the bruises where Utena had gotten him with a practice sword. His wrist throbbed, but not as much as he thought it would. No, most of the pain was muscles he hadn’t challenged in a while.

Touga smiled at the ceiling. She’d enjoyed the sword practice, even when he beat her, and she hadn’t gloated when she’d beaten him. What a change from sparring with Saionji! Seeing her smile, flushed and sweaty with errant curls of hair sticking to her cheeks, was worth a little bruising. Having her laugh and joke with him was more precious still. She’d treated him like _Touga_ , not _Touga, lord of the castle_ or _Touga, shameless man-slut_ or even _Touga, Student Council President_.

If he’d been looking for a sign that he was doing the right thing in attempting to smash the shell of the Playboy, that was it. No power or control over others had ever made him feel as good as her casual camaraderie, and the choice that had seemed so foolhardy yesterday now seemed like he only logical course of action. If he couldn’t be her Prince, maybe she would accept him as her friend. Would that be enough? Could he redeem himself that much in her eyes?

He’d have to ask her to spar again tomorrow. He obviously needed the conditioning, and she needed the practice. And maybe…

Aching but swaddled in comfort, Touga fell asleep before he could finish the sentence in his own mind.

                 *********************************************************

Kouze's influence with the castle staff was more than a little unnerving, Utena thought as the head laundress finished up her report the next morning. Not only had word spread to every member of the staff, but the ones who weren't happy had been identified and were being watched by the rest - who had no intentions of letting anything get in Utena's way. Oh, and no, Touga had not been with anyone the entire day. Not even Saionji.

On the one hand, the revelation that Saionji was a regular sexual conquest of Touga's should not have been a surprise. After all, he was granted the freedom to enter the Master's wing at any time. But on the other hand, Utena wasn't sure she could look the green-haired man in the eye for a while.

It took extra effort at breakfast to maintain the casual attitude she'd found so natural at dinner. After the practice session in the dueling arena, Touga had seemed much more relaxed. Like he was letting go of the Playboy. Taking baby steps towards freedom. She'd found it much easier to joke around with him when he wasn't wearing the invisible mantle of power, but that was before Kouze had told her that he used his best friend for physical pleasure when not in the mood for anyone else. She had to keep reminding herself that that was the Playboy, the old Touga, part of what he was trying to change. That she learned this after the fact should not influence how she treated the new, uncertain Touga trying to become worthy of being her Prince.

It did, however, and he sensed it. She watched his easy smile - not a smirk, but a genuine smile - falter at the look on her face when he walked into the dining room, and the look of uncertainty and _terror_ that replaced it was a blade of guilt that sank right into her belly. Again, Utena reminded herself of the things she'd overheard. She was acutely aware that she held the power to break Touga. Both of them had moments of looking away and composing themselves during the meal, and the nonchalance of Touga's request that she spar with him again was particularly brittle.

She accepted, remembering the privacy of the dueling arena, and they made the trip in silence. Once the carriage came to a stop and the practice swords were unloaded, Ruka led the horses to the other side of the arena and they finally had a chance to talk alone.

"What did I do?"

Touga looked away almost immediately, chiding himself for having blurted out the thought that had tormented him since the moment he entered the dining room and saw wary hurt on Utena's face. When no answer was forthcoming, he stole a glance at Utena and discovered that she was looking away as well, blushing. She glanced at him, saw that he was looking, and visibly steeled herself.

"It's not what," she said slowly, "but who."

"But I haven't-"

"I know." She lifted her chin slightly, daring him to comment. "I asked Kouze. She has everyone watching you." At Touga's confused look, she continued, "You said the Playboy is gone. I want to make sure of that."

So word had been spread, and Utena had heard it. That still didn't account for the hurt in her eyes.

"She told me something else, too." Blushing, she looked away again. "She told me your...habits."

Touga felt her respect for him crumble. _Shameless man-slut,_ his mind whispered.

"But I haven't-"

"-and you better not!" Her eyes were on him now, hot and hard, her mouth an angry line. "I know you're trying to change. But I also know that if it weren't in your nature to be a playboy, the curse wouldn't have made you one." He flinched at that, and Utena felt bad for him - but not as bad as she felt for all the students he'd seduced. "Do you know the fable of the scorpion and the frog?"

He did. The scorpion, unable to cross the river, begged the frog to carry him. The frog agreed only because the scorpion assured the frog he would not sting, since he would drown as well - but halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the frog. As they sank below the water, the frog asked why and the scorpion replied that he couldn't help it, that it was his nature. Touga swallowed, suddenly realizing the razor edge on the path he'd chosen to walk. He nodded.

"I'm trusting you to act like a decent person. It's not easy because I know the things you did before now, but I'm trying not to hold that against you."

Her blue eyes bored into him, and he could see that same wary hurt behind her anger.

"You slip up once, and it's over. I'm not going to give you infinite second chances just because you're cute when you're not being a bastard. If I hear from Kouze that you've been with _anyone_ , I'll know I was wrong - there's no hope for you."

Touga closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by despair. His battered pride protested showing weakness in front of her, but he beat it down. This was by no means the first time he'd been weak where she could see it.

"I know you can be better, Touga."

The words were quiet, and held no anger. Slowly, he opened his eyes and found her watching him with the same compassion she'd shown before whenever he was weak.

"That child, crying in the church. The one hiding in the coffin, wishing to be saved...It's not me, Touga. It's you." Utena smiled gently at the dumfounded look he was giving her. "I know it was you and Saionji in the church that night. I know you weren't always-"

"-a shameless man-slut?" finished Touga wryly.

Utena glanced away briefly. "Yes. I know there's more to you than a playboy."

She gave him that look of quiet compassion again, and for just an instant she seemed...younger, more pure. A trick of the lights from the castle made her eyes look more green than blue, while her hair could almost have been lilac.

"Come out of your coffin, princess," she said, gently teasing.

The remnants of Touga's pride protested being called a princess, but he shoved them down again. He trusted her. She could have kicked him when he was down, let him bleed to death, left him in agony, or used his love for her to control him - and he was certain that Wakaba had told her that juicy little tidbit - but instead, she was trying to help him. He wasn't about to let the chance slip away by trying to deny that he wanted her help. Hell, he was willing to suffer bruises for her smile, he would let her call him 'princess' if it got him her affection. Slowly, he let his eyelids droop and smiled back at her.

"Anything for you, noble prince."

Utena smiled, that teasing grin that made his heart ache. She tossed him a practice sword. "C'mon. Let's see if you're man enough to beat me."

That was a signal that she was letting the subject drop, and he grinned back. He was going to be even more stiff and sore tomorrow, but it was worth it.

 


	14. Utena is a tease

Wakaba was waiting when Utena emerged from the bathroom after a long, hot soak. A glance at the table showed that Touga hadn’t cancelled dinner, so the brunette had to be here for information.

“Let me guess,” she said as she opened the wardrobe, “you want to know what Touga and I were talking about.”

“Well, what you were yelling at him for,” the other girl said with a sheepish look. “I got picked to ask, but everyone wants to know.”

Utena settled on the blue tunic she’d stolen from Touga and some black pants. “I didn’t yell at him. I told him no more taking advantage of you. Any of you. And I told him Kouze had the staff watching him to make sure he wasn’t backsliding.” She turned around and gave the flabbergasted girl a grim look. “I told him that if he slips up even once, it’s over.”

Wakaba cringed under her friend’s bleak gaze. “Isn’t that a little…harsh?”

“So is using all of you for his pleasure.”

“Well, yes, but…”

“But what?” Utena asked, voice muffled as she pulled the tunic over her head.

“…but he loves you,” Wakaba finished lamely.

“That’s all the more reason to not go seducing other people. If he’d really do anything for me, then he should be able to not-do for me.”

“What if someone else shows up to try to break the curse?”

The sudden, intense stab of jealous possessiveness took Utena by surprise. “What do you mean?”

Wakaba stared at her friend for a moment before answering. Was that a hint that the former playboy was starting to make progress? “Saionji told me what he’s like when someone new comes to the castle,” she said slowly. “The Playboy takes over almost entirely. You’ve seen him put the Playboy aside, right? You can tell when it’s just Touga and when it’s the Playboy?”

Utena nodded slowly.

“Well, when someone gets sent here, the Playboy takes over so hard that Saionji can’t get Touga out of it – and he’s tried.” Her fingers twining around themselves were suddenly fascinating. “Are you going to hold that against him?”

The pink-haired girl didn’t answer for a moment, thinking as she combed her wet hair out. Whatever answer she gave, Wakaba would bear to Saionji or maybe Kouze. Regardless, it would spread to the rest of the staff by nightfall and Touga would doubtless know by morning. That, more than anything, dictated her answer.

“Yes, I will.”

_There,_ she thought as Wakaba blanched. _That ought to give him incentive to fight the curse._ Would she really hold it against him if he tried to seduce a newcomer? Maybe not, depending on how hard he fought the Playboy nature. But he didn’t have to know that.

                  *********************************************************

Touga woke up cold, aching, and so stiff that the thought of standing up made him wince. The nurse had okayed the bandages coming off so long as the wounds had several hours of exposure to the air without any covering. At the time, it made perfect sense to just do it before bed and sleep on his stomach, but now he regretted it deeply. What time was it? How long did he have to get this display of weakness under control before Keiko came in? He’d have to cancel breakfast with Utena, he wasn’t going anywhere without a nice long soak to relax his muscles first. There would be no sword practice either, not unless he felt a hundred times better after that soak.

Footsteps in the hall. Shit.

The lord of the castle pasted a lazy smile on his face and tried to look indulgent rather than incapacitated, even after he recognized the heavy tread as Saionji’s. Showing weakness in front of his old friend was even worse than showing it in front of the rest of the staff.

“I see the you got the bandages off,” the maitre’d said by way of greeting.

“Yes, and I fully intend to indulge myself in a long, hot bath. Do me a favor and convey my apologies to Utena for not joining her at breakfast, won’t you?” At the last moment, Touga remembered to keep the heavy-lidded look to contentment and not the ‘I’m too good for you but you can dream’ smirk he’d almost turned it into.

Saionji made himself comfortable in the heavy chair by the bed. “Aren’t you curious as to why I’m here instead of Keiko?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me even if I’m not,” the aching redhead said dryly.

“Wakaba asked Utena last night about what she would do when someone new gets sent here.”

That got Touga’s full attention.

“And what did our lovely guest have to say about that?”

The casual tone was completely forced, but Saionji didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did, but the malicious pleasure of what he was about to say drowned out any smug reaction he might have had.

“When someone new arrives, and you try to seduce him or her…” The curse would see that it was _when you try_ and not _if you try_. “…she’ll hold that against you.” Saionji stood so that Touga wouldn’t see the pleased, calculating look on his face. Not that it made a difference; the redhead was momentarily locked in his own private hell. He walked to the door and paused, making sure his voice was filled with malicious glee before speaking. “Looks like you don’t have much time. As soon as End of the World picks out the next sacrifice, it’s all over.”

When Touga could no longer hear Saionji’s retreating footsteps, he dragged himself out of bed and staggered to the hot tub in the Master bathroom. The physical pain he felt was nothing compared to the tearing ache of despair his friend’s words evoked, but he knew even that couldn’t hold a candle to the misery he would feel when Utena turned away from him, the faint affection he’d earned so far turning to cold hatred.

He sank down into the hot water and wondered if he had the strength to drown himself, or if that would be weakness. Would it break the curse for the Playboy to die? What would happen to the rest of the staff? Would they be sent back, or just trapped in the castle forever? With a groan, Touga brought both hands up to massage his temples, fingers dancing lightly over the places Utena had touched him. Maybe he should show her where he kept the rings, just in case.

Just in case what? In case he succumbed to despair and drowned himself? In case he was stupid enough to take another bareback suicide ride? If he did show her where the rings were, it would be taken either as an invitation to send the staff away, or as a sign that he expected to die. He might win some respect from Utena if he told her where they were so that the staff could be freed, but that would leave him without a staff if she took him up on it and she’d lose respect for him if he deliberately kept his servants here after revealing to her that he could have freed them at any time. No, better not tell her after all.

_Come out of your coffin, princess._

She’d called him a princess three times now; did she think he was weak? She was trying to help him, despite everything. He didn’t deserve her. Wasn’t worthy of her.

_What kind of a Prince would I be if I abandoned a Princess in need?_

Touga chuckled quietly, mocking himself. He definitely needed her. There was no denying that, not when he was willing to suffer indignities as long as they came from her lips. Not when he tossed out ego and pride to see her smile at him, hear her laugh, bathe in her gentle compassion. One hand slipped below the water and he closed his eyes, remembering the sweetness of her lips beneath his, imagining what other sweetness he could taste with her beneath him. His breath hitched as the waves of warm water climbed his chest like gentle fingers. She was a prince, and he was the princess who needed her so badly that no one else even interested him anymore. Maybe…it would be _him_ who was beneath _her_.

He contemplated that for several minutes before the little fantasy reached its electric conclusion, then basked in the warm water for several minutes more, wishing the wavelets were her fingers. Finally, he climbed out of the tub and padded, naked and dripping, to the shower. Doubtless he would need another one after he finished teaching Utena how to ride the flying stallions, but after that unexpectedly satisfying contemplation, he needed one now as well. All of the indecision from earlier had evaporated in that electric instant, and he wondered if the reality would surpass his fantasy.

As if he needed yet another reason to prove himself worthy of her.

                 ********************************************************* 

“You want to teach me _what_?”

“Horses,” Touga added hastily, looking up from the remains of lunch. “I want to teach you the…” Okay, _pleasures_ had been a bad word choice. Damnit! “…the _joys_ of riding horses.” This was not going to be easy. It was hard enough keeping the insinuating tone out of his words when they _didn’t_ lend themselves so easily to implying sexual things. That bathtime revelation hadn’t helped, every time he so much as thought the word ‘riding’ his mind conjured up images of Utena’s naked body atop his, her-

Touga mentally shook himself. He was in control, damnit! He could do this! He _would_ do this!

“But if you feel so much better after your bath, then why…?”

Oh yes, the bath. Utena’s silky skin sliding against his, suds trailing down her-

With another mental shake, he kept the half-smile where it was and prevented it from blossoming into a full, inviting smirk.

“I enjoy riding. Horses. I think you would, too.” _But not just horses…_ “And besides…” he gave her a charming smile. “…I want us to be able to go to the dueling arena without having to be driven by Ruka.”

“Well, okay, you have a point there.” Utena sighed. I guess this means I should change.”

_Clothes falling to the floor one by one, petals falling to expose the perfection of the rose beneath…_

“What should I wear?”

“There should be a riding outfit in your closet – tan pants, white shirt with black jacket, tall boots?”

“Oh yeah, I remember them. I’ll be right back,” said Utena as she pushed her chair back and stood up.

“I’ll meet you in the courtyard,” he said, still distracted by images of Utena unclothing herself.

Fifteen minutes later, clad in pants that hugged every curve on her long, athletic legs and a jacket that proudly declared her femininity, Utena stepped into the courtyard  in boots that embraced her calves and ended just shy of her knees. Touga mentally complimented the two seamstresses – what were their names? Oh well, it wasn’t important. Ruka was already there, both horses saddled and bridled. At Touga’s nod he handed over the reins of the light stallion and took the dark one off to the side.

“It’s so big!”

Touga kept his smirk in check; she was talking about the horse, not his-

“How will I ever get on that thing?”

-okay, that didn’t help.

“Once you’ve done it for the first time, the next time it will be easier.” He really wished he wasn’t talking about the horse.

“That doesn’t help me right now, though.”

“I’ll help you mount in a minute.” _Guiding her hips down-_ “But first, I want you to touch it.” _Touch it, stroke it, wrap those long fingers around it-_

Utena was looking at him strangely. Shit. Had those delicious mental images bled over into his tone?

“Here…” Touga took one of her hands, looked away for a moment, then brought it up to the horse’s nose. The light stallion snuffled at it, then calmed, and he guided Utena’s hand to the velvety-soft muzzle.

“It’s so soft…” Charmed now, Utena stepped forward to make friends with the horse.

Touga watched her with a smile, imagining it was a much different piece of velvety-soft warmth her fingers were stroking. It took effort to keep his voice neutral.

“Here, let’s get you mounted.” Stop, eyes closed, look away, deep breath. “On the horse.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

“I have, many times.” _And not just horses._ “Here, I’ll show you.” He guided her around to the side and held the stirrup for her. “Put your left foot in this.” She fumbled, and he took her ankle in one hand and guided foot and stirrup together, snatching his fingers back before they could caress her calf through the leather boot. “Now, you’re going to step up on that, and swing your right leg over…”

“Step up?” Utena looked up at the horse’s back. “I don’t think I can.”

“I’ll help you. Just remember to swing your right leg over.” Again he took her hands, guiding them to where she could grip the saddle and withdrawing as though her skin burned. The gentle touch did cause a burning sensation, but not in his hands…

“Okay, I’ll give it a try…”

Touga put his hands gingerly on her hips, wanting to rip those clinging pants out of the way and take her right there, up against the horse. “Go,” he said, voice tight with suppressed need. He felt her tense, bob once to get momentum, and then lifted with her upwards motion and guided her into place on the saddle. Not the place he _wanted_ to be guiding her…

Realizing his left hand was now on her thigh, he removed it and looked away, fighting the playboy nature down and completely missing Utena’s amusement at realizing just how much insinuation could be made in this situation.

“So…what do I do now that I’m mounted?”

“Grip him with your thighs,” Touga said as neutrally as he could, still not looking trying not to imagine that it was him her thighs were gripping.

“Okay. Now what?”

“For now, just feel his motion and try to move with him…” Why did horseback riding have to sound so much like sex? “You’ll be moving up and down later, when he goes faster-” He broke off, hands clenched, and turned away from Utena entirely. Yes, he wanted her to be going up and down on him. No, that wasn’t happening right now, and would his brain stop encouraging his body?

“I want to try mounting again.”

Another moment to get his expression and tone under control, and Touga turned back to face Utena. “That’s a good idea.”

Utena gave him a knowing, teasing smile, eyelids lowered ever so slightly. “How do I get off?”

Eyes now clenched shut, hands once more fists, the lord of the castle struggled to not say any of the things that were coming to mind.

“Stand in the stirrups,” he said stiffly, entire body as rigid as- “Now shift your weight to the left and take your right foot out of the stirrup. Swing it back over the horse, hold onto the saddle, and-”

“I’m afraid I’ll fall.” The challenge in her voice made it clear that she had no such fear.

_Deep breath. You can do this, Touga._ “I’ll guide you down.” Hard swallow. “…to the ground.”

When he opened his eyes, Utena was standing in the left stirrup, leg coming over the horse’s back. Touga grabbed her hips as she began lowering herself – _but not onto me_ – and guided her gently to the surface of the courtyard. His fingers spread out of their own volition, grip shifting to one that would aid in something that was not horsemanship. He froze when he realized what he was doing and deliberately lifted his hands off her.

Utena tossed a teasing grin that stopped just short of an invitation over her shoulder. Oh yes, she knew what she was doing to him.

“I’m going to mount again,” she said. “Will you watch to make sure I’m doing it right?”

“Of course,” he answered from between clenched teeth.

She bounced once and lifted herself neatly into the saddle. After a moment, she dismounted with equal ease.

“You were right, it’s easier to mount the second time.” She gave him one of his own half-lidded smirks. “And it’s easy to get off, too.”

As he closed his eyes yet again and took deep breaths to banish the image of her crying out on top of him, she laughed. It was the same laugh she used when he’d just make a joke – not laughing _at_ him, but just being amused.

“Distracted?” she teased.

Touga gave her a mock pout. “You’re making it hard- ah, that is, _difficult_ to keep my mind on riding the horse and not you.” Shit. “You, riding the horse.”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re trying. I shouldn’t tease.”

He suddenly found himself in a quick but close embrace, and then it was over and Utena was on the light stallion, stroking his lilac mane while Touga tried to figure out what had just happened and if she really had just hugged him.

“You going to just stand there, or are you going to show me how to…do this?” she finished lamely.

With another mental shake, Touga beckoned Ruka over and mounted the dark stallion.


	15. And now, back to the plot!

Between lessons in horsemanship and sword fighting, Utena fell into a comfortable rhythm and the days slipped past. Kouze’s reports each morning confirmed that Touga was behaving in a manner more princely than playboy, and the majority of the castle staff grew more comfortable with the new state of affairs. The general aura of wariness faded away, and the assorted servants warmed to the new, more noble lord of the castle. There were still a handful of holdouts who resented the absence of personal attentions from the Playboy, but the majority found themselves genuinely happy to serve a Master who wasn’t going to molest them at will. If Touga noticed the change in his servants, he didn’t mention it. His attention was wholly focused on Utena.

As the days passed, Touga found it easier to fight off the Playboy. Not attempting to seduce the rest of the staff was not a challenge when none of them aroused his interest anymore. While his love for Utena provided him the strength of will to not randomly hit on his servants, that habit was harder to break when it came to the pink-haired girl herself. When he and Utena were alone, the tentative friendship between them gave him a path to follow that was emotionally intimate without being sexual. As friends, she could express affection for him. As friends, he could bask in her smile.

That’s not to say that his dreams weren’t filled with images of her writhing naked beneath – or on top of – him, but she’d taught him that come-ons only chased her away. Slowly, he grew more comfortable being just Touga when no one else was around to see, something she encouraged with smiles, laughter, and casual contact. A hand on his shoulder, her fingers brushing his – and the occasional brief hug when she felt she’d teased and tested his resolve enough for the time being. The more open he let himself be around her, the more he embraced the emotions that began to flourish in his once-empty heart, the more she seemed to regard him with something more than simple friendship. He dared not let himself hope that she would come to love him, not yet. The world had disappointed him enough already; he would not give it such a tempting target when he still had to fight the Playboy.

The true tests of his resolve came when members of the staff were present along with Utena. The instinct to protect his image was nearly a decade strong, and not something the curse had strengthened. Even though he knew his feelings for Utena were common knowledge to everyone in the castle and there was no image to protect, he still had to choose his words carefully and force himself to act like a gentleman. Utena seemed to understand the trouble he was having, at least, and was happy to either be alone with him, or leave him alone with the servants. He knew she was spending the time away from him with her friend Wakaba, and didn’t begrudge them that. After all, it gave him time to awkwardly renew his friendship with Saionji.

The green-haired man was surprisingly supportive – when they were alone. There were no more cruel speculations or snide remarks about Touga’s decisions and the redhead would have been suspicious about Saionji’s change in heart if he didn’t know how much his old friend wanted the curse to be broken. Whatever plot he was hatching with Wakaba, it seemed to be going smoothly. Touga knew that he should feel resentment for following someone else’s plan, but the truth was that his plan was going smoothly as well and he just didn’t care that his goal and Saionji’s happened to be the same.

The power of dreams, Mikage had said. Touga couldn’t bring himself to believe in something as foolish as his dreams, but Utena’s…

He couldn’t believe in her dreams, but he believed in her, and she believed strongly enough in her dreams to break the first curse. Perhaps if she achieved them, the second curse would break as well. Then, and only then, would he admit to himself that he dreamed of a day when he could replace her Rose Seal with another ring, and see his love reflected in her eyes.

                  *********************************************************

Miki’s problem was that he was weak. He couldn’t admit to himself what he wanted, couldn’t bring himself to act on his desires, and grew frustrated when his dreams didn’t land neatly in his lap. Thus, it made him bitterly jealous to see other people reaping the rewards of their actions and secretly, he wanted to ruin their source of joy – but again, couldn’t bring himself to act on it. Seeing Touga’s transformation from sterile manipulator to hopeful, smiling, would-be prince filled the blue-haired boy with resentment.

When he saw the letter among the Student Council paperwork, sealed with the Rose Crest and signed ‘End of the World’, he read it eagerly. Surely, this news would bring validation of his unhappiness. The happiness that had passed him by would crumble and fall, leaving everyone else more miserable then him. His desires would fall into his lap at last; all he had to do was follow the instructions in the letter.

                  *********************************************************

With the graciousness of a lord bestowing blessings, Saionji returned the greetings of the many girls whose adoring faces begged for the gift of his smile. That smile was pleased more often than not, lately. Wakaba’s morning reports were slowly becoming more about pleasure and less about business. Touga and Utena seemed to be coming along splendidly on their own, letting him explore the exciting prospects of an actual relationship with the surprising brunette. Once she’d found the strength to stand up to him, she’d never backed down. She didn’t display the sharp, swift willpower he was accustomed to, but a more earthy, resilient sturdiness.

He was toying with the idea of giving her some sort of gift when he reached his locker and discovered the small envelope inside it. It had been so long since End of the World had sent the last sacrifice – Wakaba – that he’d almost forgotten there was another party who desired to see the curse broken.

Saionji broke the rose-crested seal on the envelope and pulled out the letter. Silently, he read it – then read it once more as the blood drained from his face. He knew who the letter was talking about, and he didn’t like the implications one bit. Miki would have already gotten his letter and read it; there would be no help in stopping the coming events from that end. Stuffing the letter back in its envelope, the Student Council Vice President ran for the gate to the forest. This put everything in jeopardy.

                  *********************************************************

“There’s a girl coming?” Wakaba paled at Saionji’s nod. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“It gets worse,” the green-haired man said grimly. “End of the World picked a twisted one this time. The girl’s name is Shiori, and she’s tangled up in some kind of love-hate thing with the Student Council Treasurer.”

“Isn’t the Treasurer-”

“-a girl? Yes. It would have taken all of Touga’s skill to seduce this one when he was still only a heartless Playboy. But as he is now, I don’t think he could do it.”

“And the curse is going to force him to try… Oh no!”

Saionji nodded grimly. “No matter if he does or doesn’t, Utena will drop him like a hot brick, and all our effort will be wasted.”

“When’s she coming?”

Wakaba accepted the letter and read it. It fell from her trembling fingers.

“Tomorrow.”

                 ********************************************************* 

As Touga left the Master's wing on the way to breakfast, Miki fell into step beside him. The younger boy was both smiling and supposed to be at Ohtori, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that something was up. Instinctively, he lowered his eyelids and let an appraising smirk slide into place. Miki had been sulky ever since the decision to break the Playboy shell; whatever he was happy about, it didn't bode well.

"I just got a letter from End of the World," the majordomo said without preamble. "The next target has been identified."

"Is that so?"

"There will be a girl arriving tomorrow. One who has been _authorized_ to enter the castle." Miki's tone made it clear that he still saw Utena as an interloper.

"I see. We'll have to prepare a proper welcome for her, won't we? Go find Saionji and tell him I want to see him in the Master's wing - I'm sure he'll be back soon if he's not already. And convey my apologies to Utena that I won't be able to join her for breakfast."

With that, the lord of the Castle Where Eternity Dwells dismissed his majordomo with a lazy smile of anticipation and sauntered back through the double doors. The blue-haired boy bowed and hurried off, conveyed the Master’s order to the maitre’d, dispatched a random servant to the Pink Room, and continued on his way back to Ohtori. When Saionji finally found Touga, he was in the Rose Room, gazing into the sleeping face of the Rose Bride.

They stood in silence for several minutes. When the former Playboy finally spoke, there was no amusement, smug or otherwise, in his voice.

“There’s a new girl coming.”

Saionji nodded silently.

“She’s due to arrive tomorrow.”

Again, the green-haired man kept his silence.

“I want tonight to be perfect.” Touga took a deep breath, bracing himself. “…since I’m going to lose Utena tomorrow.”

Saionji stared in shock at his friend, not quite able to believe he’d just heard resignation and _despair_ in that deep, velvety voice. Touga turned to him, eyes full of regret, his expression one of mourning for something he had not yet lost. Once, Saionji would have reveled in how low the Playboy had been brought. Now, however, all he saw was the impending ruin of his hopes and the death of all their dreams.

“I will see to every detail personally,” he said quietly.

“Thank you.”

The defeated gratitude made Saionji flinch.

Alone again, Touga stood in silence, gazing at the Rose Crest on his finger.

_Just in case..._

With one last thoughtful glance at the girl in the coffin, he left to find Kouze.

                  *********************************************************

"You want _what?"_

"You heard me."

The head laundress stared at her Master like he'd lost his mind. "Why?"

That was an excellent question. Why _was_ he doing this? To please Utena? No...that was part of the reason, certainly, but it went deeper than that.

"Because that's what a prince would do," he said quietly. "See to it, please."

Kouze nodded numbly as Touga walked away, leaving her clutching a small chest that clinked as she hurried in the other direction.

                  *********************************************************

Wakaba yelped in surprise as a hand suddenly tugged her into the doorway she was passing, nearly causing her to drop the breakfast tray she was returning to the kitchen. The hand slammed the door shut, leaving her to face a very intent Kouze.

"What's going on?" demanded the blue-haired girl.

"That's what I want to know. Why did you drag me in here?"

"Because I think you know what's going on," the other girl said grimly, "and I want to know what it is."

"Wha-what makes you think something's going on?"

In response, Kouze held up her left hand. A Rose Crest glittered from her ring finger.

"How did you-"

"Master Touga gave it to me." She held up an identical ring. "He gave them all to me, and told me to distribute them. Now what's going on?"

Wakaba swallowed, eyes glued to the freedom glinting between Kouze's fingers. "There's a girl coming," she said shakily. "Tomorrow."

The ring fell, chiming softly against the floor.

                  *********************************************************

Utena looked around to make sure no one was watching, then quietly tugged one of the horse-emblazoned doors open and slipped into the Master’s wing. She eased it shut behind her, feeling silly for sneaking around but determined to get an answer. Something was up, and no one would tell her what – not even Wakaba, who’d ambushed her with breakfast almost before the servant finished relaying Touga’s apologies that he wouldn’t be joining her for breakfast.

Touga had canceled breakfast. The last time he’d done that, he was too stiff to move without a long, hot bath first. Shortly after Wakaba left to return the dishes to the kitchen, the seamstresses had swarmed in and stolen her school uniform, promising that they’d bring it back soon, and swarmed back out. Ruka had sent a stable boy to let her know that the lord of the castle had begged out of their daily sword practice as well, so she’d gone running in the main hallway. There were servants scurrying everywhere, but none of them would stop to chat like they usually did – and they all denied that something was wrong. Some of them wouldn’t even meet her eyes. So here she was, in the series of rooms she hadn’t been in since the day she’d overheard Touga’s confession.

She went straight to the Master bedroom first, but it was empty. The enormous bed, which had been a rumpled sea of red silk and white pillows every other time she’d seen it, showed no signs of having been slept in. Confused now, Utena made her way back down the hall, peering into each room as she went. She thought about calling Touga’s name, but didn’t.

The room she finally found him in was decorated in a powder blue theme, its sitting room the same one where she’d spread salve on his cuts and told him she wasn’t looking for a Playboy pretending to be a Prince. He was asleep on the king-size bed, cocooned in a down comforter, sprawled sideways with his face half-buried in a powder-blue body pillow that he was spooned up to as though it were a lover.

Utena frowned. That wasn’t a sprawl, that was the sort of curled-up position someone took when-

Quietly, she crossed the room and examined the pillow Touga was clutching. Yes, those were tear stains. But why…?

Guilt. It had to be something relating to his love for her, which means she was indirectly responsible for this. After all, she didn’t return his love, even though he’d kept his word. She felt bad about that; he’d been working so hard to break free of the Playboy, and _did_ care about him, just…not that way. And it wasn’t even entirely because of the curse, either. As sweet as he could be, as much as his moments of vulnerability made her want to cuddle him, as much as she genuinely enjoyed his company – the girl in the coffin needed her more.

Utena sat gingerly on the bed just behind Touga’s head and gently stroked his hair. She’d forgotten how silky it was. Again she ran her fingers through it, lightly brushing his temple and cheek, and felt him tremble ever-so-slightly. A third time, and he let out a shuddering sigh. So. Even asleep, her touch soothed him. She kept stroking his hair, feeling like she was petting a giant cat. It was apology, she told herself. Apology for not being able to be what he wanted her to be even though he was trying his best to be what she wanted. Apology for whatever made him break their usual arrangement and cry himself back to sleep.

Several minutes passed. She hadn’t meant to spend so much time just petting his hair, but she could see that he was much more relaxed than he’d been when she first entered the room. Who was she to deny him a few moments of comfort when he was obviously suffering because of her?

Finally, she forced herself to stop and stand up. She couldn’t stay here all day, what would she do if he woke up? He made a small whimpery sound as her weight left the bed and she had to force herself to not take him in her arms and just _hold_ him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, brushing his temple with the backs of her fingers before leaving the room as quietly as she’d entered it.

And because she didn’t look back, she didn’t see that he was watching her as she left, face full of yearning and eyes full of anguish.

 


	16. Tale as old as 1991

The seamstresses were lying in wait for Utena when she returned to her room. They’d added some kind of red and gold decoration to the shoulders of her uniform, with white tassels emerging from beneath the weird circle things and gold braid trailing from the one on the right to a golden triangle-and-circle clasp that clipped on a few inches below her throat. The sleeves of her jacket now ended in crisp white cuffs, and there were ruffles of white lace peeking out from the tails. They insisted she put it on, fussed over the additions for a minute, and then gathered their tools in preparation for leaving.

“Hey, wait a second!” Utena blurted out. “Why’d you do this to my uniform?”

“Master Touga’s orders,” chirped the one with the bow.

“Yeah, he said a prince needs a princely uniform,” added the one with braids.

And then they were gone, leaving the pink-haired girl blinking at her reflection and wondering why the triangle and circle seemed so familiar. As she was buckling her sword back on, she remembered where she’d seen that sort of decoration before.

The dress on the girl in the glass coffin.

                  *********************************************************

With the normal daily routine broken, Utena found herself at loose ends. Like hell was just going to sit around in her room and do nothing - that got boring after about fifteen minutes and she decided to go exploring again. Three hallways and a staircase later, she emerged unexpectedly onto a sun-dappled path winding between rose-covered columns and arches and the occasional stone bench kept clear of greenery. The door closed behind her with a soft click. A single glance was all it took to see that there was no handle on this side, and that she'd neatly trapped herself out here.

_Well, the path has to lead somewhere, right?_

Utena followed the path past benches and under arches and around a wall - and stopped. Barely ten feet away, a man in a white uniform with a head of very familiar red hair was bent over a bush of pink roses so pale they were nearly white. He hadn't seen her. Quickly, she ducked back around the wall and promptly felt foolish. What was she hiding from?

A single rose entered her field of vision. She blinked, then followed the stem and the hand holding it, turning slowly to face Touga. There was no hint that he'd been crying; he was as confident and assured as he ever was as the Playboy, only without the blatant sexual overtones. He was smiling, and not the deliberately charming smile that had almost completely replaced the inviting smirk. This was a gentle smile, an expression of simple joy at an unexpected pleasure, like a child catching sight of a rainbow. And unlike the other brief instances of this type of unguarded expression, he wasn't making an effort to hide his naked feelings.

"Touga?" Utena stopped just short of asking if he was okay.

"Utena." His velvety voice caressed her name. "A rose for you, noble prince."

She accepted the flower a bit awkwardly. "Thank you."

"Here..." Touga took the rose back, then tucked it into her breast pocket. "Lovely," he said, meaning both her and the rose.

"Thank you," she said again, unsure of what else to say.

"What brings you out here?"

"Oh, I was exploring and I guess I locked myself out." Utena grinned sheepishly, and Touga gave her that brilliant smile again.

"Well, since we're both here and have time to kill before lunch, may I show you the gardens?"

Utena studied him for a moment, remembering how blissfully he had relaxed under her touch - not once, but several times. He had that same look now, just from being around her. She didn't want to deny him that comfort, especially not after seeing how he was earlier. As much as she tried to tell herself it was just because she was a prince, the truth was that his smile made her feel warm inside, and she wanted more of it.

"I'd like that."

                  *********************************************************

Saionji rubbed his hands together in satisfaction and beamed at Wakaba as she hurried up to him. "The cloth and hamper are in place. We're ready."

"Except that Utena's not in her room, and Master Touga's not answering."

The satisfied smile slipped. "What? Organize the staff. Search the castle. Check all the windows. Master Touga knows the plan, so there's a chance Utena's with him, but I'm going to check the Master's wing just in case. I want you to stay by the Pink Room in case Utena wanders back."

"If she does, should I send her...?"

"No, keep her there until I can see if Touga's in his rooms."

Wakaba nodded and hurried back the way she'd come while Saionji strode off in a different direction. It didn't take long for the green-haired man to discover that the Master was nowhere in his wing, but by the time he met up with Wakaba outside the Pink room, Touga and Utena had already been spotted in the gardens.

"They look so happy," said Wakaba as they leaned out a window and confirmed that the Master and his guest were together. She looked up at Saionji. "Will it be enough?"

The maitre'd drew her close and held her tightly, surprised at the comfort he felt at having her in his arms. "I don't know," he said softly.

                  *********************************************************

Touga paused in the middle of the rose-crest mosaic. He supposed it had originally been a small dance floor, given the fanciful lanterns placed around the edges and the platform where a string quartet could perform. The original plan had called for coming here later in the evening, when the lanterns could be lit, but he didn't care. They were here now, and he wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

"Noble prince," he said with a bow and flourish, "may I have this dance?"

"Dance?" Utena looked with some dismay at the hand Touga was holding gracefully out to her. "But...I don't know how to dance."

He smiled at her, not withdrawing his hand. "I'll teach you. It's not hard."

Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. His eyes lit up as though she had just given him the most precious gift imaginable, and he intended to cherish it forever. Gently, he placed her other hand on the curve of his shoulder and, with a heartbreakingly hopeful look, gingerly rested his other hand on the small of her back.

"I'm not taking liberties," he said softly, eyes begging her to not reject him.

She nodded once, relaxing as his hand stayed chastely above her rear.

"Now then...move your right foot back...left foot now, even with your right. Good. Bring your right foot next to your left, now step forward with your left foot...yes, and now right foot forward even with the left, and bring your left foot next to your right. Now we start over. Right foot back..."

A few more repetitions, and Utena had the simple steps memorized. Touga stopped walking her through each motion at that point and counted out the beat until the rhythm felt natural and they whirled around the rose mosaic in silence. Had either of them glanced at the castle, they would have seen every window full of spectators - but Touga was busy memorizing the happiest moments of his life, and Utena couldn't tear her gaze away from the unguarded joy on Touga's face.

Utena remembered a day when she had run circles in the central hallway, wondering if she could love a non-Playboy Touga, and if she would want to. She had her answer now.

Yes.

                 ********************************************************* 

After a while, the simple waltz step got boring and the two dancers started embellishing, adding twirls and dips and such. The end result looked like some strange cross between waltz and tango, but they didn’t care. They were having fun.

Finally, laughing and panting, they left the garden dance floor and followed one path out. Touga was radiating that same unguarded joy, and Utena was surprised to discover that she was feeling it, too. All thoughts of curses and playboys had been trampled in the madcap dancing, and she grinned back at Touga as he led her by the hand down one garden path, tugging her along to a destination he wouldn’t tell her.

She knew it the instant they arrived. A tree, the only one she’d seen that wasn’t a decorative sapling, shaded the entire back half of the little cul-de-sac. There was a red and white checkered cloth spread out beneath it, and a picnic hamper set in the center. Chuckling weakly at how much they’d exhausted themselves dancing, they flung themselves down on the shaded cloth and lay there, fingers still entwined, to catch their breath.

When they had both cooled down, Touga reluctantly released Utena’s hand and sat up to open the hamper. Utena sat up as well, curious to see what was inside. The smaller container held two of the biggest strawberries Utena had ever seen, coated with rich chocolate, while the larger one proved to be a deluxe Wakaba Love Declaration lunch for two. She started laughing.

“You could have a fancy dinner arranged, and you have Wakaba make one of her lunches?”

Touga ducked his head sheepishly. “You always looked so happy when you talked about having lunch with Wakaba. I wanted to try it.” He met her eyes with a look of longing and regret that made her breath catch. “I wanted to pretend, just once, that we were normal students having lunch.”

“That’s why you’re wearing your Student Council uniform, isn’t it?”

He nodded, still looking at her with longing. Unable to meet that painful gaze, Utena grabbed a pair of chopsticks and neatly plucked an artfully-arranged tidbit from its place. She looked at it a moment, then offered it to the redhead. The longing evaporated under the ‘child seeing a rainbow’ smile, and he leaned forward with his eyes closed and his mouth open. She resisted the urge to tease him with it, and simply fed him the tidbit instead. The blissful expression on his face was all the reward she could have asked for.

They took turns feeding each other, and for a while, forgot they were would-be Prince and no-longer Playboy. When the last bites of the love declaration had been eaten, Utena lay back with her arms behind her head and gazed contentedly at the bits of golden light peeking between the leaves overhead. Quiet sounds indicated that Touga was putting the empty container back in the hamper.

Suddenly, there was a brown blob hovering above her nose. A startled yelp escaped her and she scooted backwards into a sitting position, only to discover Touga holding a chocolate-covered strawberry and trying not to laugh. Utena crossed her arms and mock-glared at him. He clutched his chest melodramatically with the hand not holding the strawberry, miming an implausible death and falling over. Conveniently, his 'corpse' wound up with his head pillowed on Utena's lap.

Her lips twitched.

The 'dead' redhead opened one eye carefully to gauge her reaction, then the other eye opened as well and Touga gave her the 'love the baby' look. She couldn't help it; she laughed.

"You're such a baby," she chided, grinning. Touga grinned back, unrepentant. "Give me that," she said, plucking the strawberry from his fingers. She brought it slowly towards her lips, then grinned again and lowered it to his mouth instead.

She was sure the strawberry was sweet, but Touga's look of surprised adoration was sweeter.

The little container with the other strawberry was close enough that Utena could reach it without dislodging Touga. She alternated feeding him bites of his dessert and taking bites of her own, wondering why it didn't bother her to have him in such an intimate position.

_He wouldn't hurt me,_ she realized with a little jolt. She no longer feared that he would try to seduce her or take advantage of her if she let him get inside her guard. He had changed. _That_ was something to think about.

When the strawberries were gone, Touga closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. She hesitated a moment, then brushed the hair away from his temple. Instead of bliss, however, her touch seemed to make him...sad.

"Utena?" he said softly, eyes still closed. "Are you happy here? With me?"

"Yes," she answered, a little surprised to discover that this strange life did, in fact, make her happy.

Touga sighed again and sat up, expression guarded for the first time since he'd seen her in the garden.

"Touga...?"

"Utena. Come to the arena with me? I want you to see how beautiful it is when the sun sets through the fog."

She nodded. Doubtless the sunset was beautiful from the arena, but that wasn't why he wanted to be there with her. There was something he wanted to tell her, something he didn't want any of the castle staff to overhear. He stood up and offered her a hand, charming smile firmly in place, eyes worried behind the curtains of his hair. She plastered an equally fake smile on her face and let him help her up. Somehow neither of them let go of the other's hand as they made their way to the stable. None of the watchers in the windows could tell that Touga's grip was more desperate than affectionate, and that Utena's fingers were tightening in reassurance instead of passion.

                  *********************************************************

They had been overheard, naturally, and the flying stallions were saddled and bridled by the time they reached the stable.

"Your steed, noble prince," Touga said, gesturing to the light stallion with a flourish.

Utena rolled her eyes and grinned even as she went along with their ritual. "I know, I know. A white horse for the prince, right?" Touga just gave her a half-smirk, eyelids lowered, enjoying the familiar banter. "Why don't you ever ride this one?" she asked curiously.

Touga looked away. "I was riding the light stallion the night..." he broke off, uncomfortable.

"I understand," Utena said softly, giving him a quick hug. She was a little surprised by how much she didn't want to let go.

They mounted in silence and flew up/down to the dueling arena, where they could speak without being overheard.

 


	17. Dios ex machina

Horses ground-tethered off to the side, Touga and Utena stood and gazed out from the dueling arena into the fog. The sun wasn’t setting yet, but it had reached the portion of its descent where it turned the fog into a brilliant sea of opalescent fire. They stood in silence for several minutes, Utena unsure how to broach the subject or even what subject to broach, and Touga unsure of where to start.

“You’re beautiful,” he said quietly. It wasn’t what he needed to say, but he felt it should be said none the less. “I’m so happy I was able to meet a person as lovely as you.”

“Touga…” Utena turned away from the fog. “You didn’t ask me here to compliment me.” Not that she minded.

“No, I didn’t.” He took a deep breath, his fragile dream held firmly in both mental hands. “I want to ask you something.” He glanced over at her, lost himself momentarily in her eyes, knew he was bleeding through his. “Can’t I be your prince?”

The longing in his voice bit deeply into Utena, leaving her speechless.

“You’re the only one for me.” Touga closed the distance between them, trampling down the pride that didn’t want to be so vulnerable, to show his feelings so openly. _Fuck it. Pride and hidden feelings never got me anywhere with her._ “I love you,” he said simply. There was a momentary flash of guilt in Utena’s eyes. _Probably because she doesn’t feel the same way,_ he thought. “From the bottom of my heart. You’re everything to me.”

It was true, Utena knew. He wasn’t making the slightest attempt to hide anything from her. She could see that he was completely sincere. He was exposing his fragile heart to her, and she didn’t have the slightest idea what to say. The wrong word, even the wrong tone, would kill him. Not that he would keel over dead, but he would no longer be _Touga, normal boy_. He would revert to what he had been. That thought scared her.

“Even if I cannot be worthy of you…” There, that was guilt again. He knew it, everything he had done was useless in the end. He couldn’t be worthy of her. “…let me be here with you for this moment,” he pleaded. “Just that would be enough.” For the second time, he went down on one knee before her. She didn’t resist as he took her hand, didn’t slap him as he kissed it. “If I can just engrave this feeling into me, of being here with you tonight, it would be enough.”

Her hand turned in his grip. “Touga…”

To his surprise, she didn’t pull her hand away. He leaned into her touch as she cupped his cheek, trying to memorize the warmth of her hand on his skin.

“Touga, what’s wrong?”

The concern in her voice nearly undid him. He closed his eyes, but a tear slipped out anyway. Her thumb moved gently across his skin, brushing it away.

“Can’t I be your prince?” he asked again, despair choking him until his voice was reduced to a whisper.

“I have to save her,” Utena whispered back, and Touga knew she was talking about the Rose Bride. “I have to be her Prince, and to do that, I can’t be your Princess.”

“I don’t want you to be a Princess.” He opened his eyes, meeting her sad gaze with his own. “You’re lovely enough to be one, but your strength and nobility make you a Prince. I don’t want you to lose that for any reason, especially not for me. But…” Touga bit his lip. Should he tell her what he knew? Would she give up her dream if she knew the truth of the Rose Bride? Did he want her to give it up, even knowing that achieving it could kill her?

No. Even if she was charging towards her doom, he didn’t want her to let go of her dream.

“…why do you want so badly to save her?”

Utena looked away. “That night in the church, I realized no one was going to save me. And then a Prince appeared, and showed me a girl who was in a worse place than me. A girl who didn’t believe that anyone would save her, either, or even want to. She was in so much pain, I almost couldn’t bear to look at her because in her eyes, I could see that she’d given up. She was just…accepting it. The Prince told me that it was her punishment for doing something unforgivable, but I thought…she’s in so much pain, hasn’t she been punished enough?” The hand that wasn’t cupping Touga’s cheek went to her eyes, scrubbing away tears of her own. “I begged the Prince to help her, but he said he couldn’t.”

Utena closed her eyes, not bothering to wipe away her tears, remembering the scent of roses and the feel of lips on her cheek. She could feel Touga stand up, holding her hand in both of his.

“And then I thought that if I just found her, maybe I could save her. That’s when he told me to never lose my strength and nobility. He gave me this ring to help me remember, and lead me to him again.”

Touga’s mental hands twisted. His dream shattered, but he didn’t care. Even if it killed her, killed both of them, he didn’t want to stand between Utena and her dream of freeing the Rose Bride. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she didn’t pull away. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed away her tears.

“Go to her,” he said softly. “Free her.”

Her eyes flew open. “But you said she can only be awakened by a Prince.”

“You are a Prince,” he said, smiling sadly. “You saved me, didn’t you?”

One hand crept up to cup his cheek again. “Did I? The curse isn’t broken.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Touga said, closing his eyes. “I just wanted you to know that I truly love you. I wanted to have this one day to remember. And I want you to know that tomorrow, when you leave, you won’t be alone.”

“Touga, what are you talking about?”

“I gave the rings back. Everyone is free to go.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Why would I leave?”

“There’s a new girl coming tomorrow. I won’t be strong enough to fight the curse.”

“Touga, look at me.” Utena waited until he obeyed and then stared into his eyes, all fierce determination and nobility. “I’m going to save her, Touga, and then I’m coming back for you. Got it?”

He nodded, unable to form any kind of coherent thought under the pressure of that gaze. She held his face in both hands, then suddenly leaned forward and kissed him.

“Wait for me, princess,” she whispered.

And then she was gone, running for the light stallion, Sword of Dios bouncing at her side. Despite everything he knew, despite the girl who would shatter this brief happiness tomorrow, Touga couldn’t help but believe that she would succeed. That she would come back for him. His shattered dream knitted itself back together.

In that instant, the thorns of the roses in the glass coffin exploded outward, shattering the glass and impaling the Rose Bride on long fingers of jagged steel.

Unable to watch Utena fly towards what he was certain was her doom, Touga gazed over the side of the dueling arena, out at the mist which began to swirl strangely. The faint chiming sounds and flickering glints deep within did not alarm him, ignorant as he was. It wasn’t until he felt the gondola descend in response to a summons from the foot of the stairs that he understood.

The castle was under attack.

                 ********************************************************* 

The residents of the castle were used to seeing Utena treat the hallways and corridors as her own personal track course. However, she usually did not run in her school uniform or with such a grim expression on her face. No one dared stop her to ask why she’d run off so suddenly after kissing Master Touga. When the lord of the castle came running not long after, they didn’t have to ask.

“The castle is under attack! Where’s Saionji? And where’s my majordomo?”

The green-haired man stepped forward. “Kouze’s distracting him.”

Touga nodded. “I want the doors barricaded and the lower windows shuttered. Empty the armory. Arm everyone. Everyone has their ring?” He swept the crowd with an intense gaze, getting nods all around. “Good. If we survive this, everyone leave. Go home. In the meantime-” he broke off as a scream sounded from the nearest window. “-what was that?”

“Swords!” came the panicked response. “Hundreds of swords, just flying around!”

“We can’t fight those,” Saionji said quietly.

Touga nodded. “Everyone, forget the armory. Grab all the wood you can carry and go to the Master’s wing. Make sure everyone – and I mean _everyone_ – is inside, and then barricade the main door with everything we’ve got.”

“But what about Utena?” Wakaba stepped out from behind the maitre’d and glared fiercely at the redhead.

“Utena’s already there. Now _move_ , everyone!”

They scattered.

                  *********************************************************

Touga watched from a window close to the Master’s wing as the gondola disgorged its single passenger – a man in a white uniform, tall with dark skin and long, lilac hair. The Acting Chairman, Akio. End of the World. He sauntered leisurely to the center of the dueling arena, then looked up at the castle as though he could see Touga watching him. With a strange little skip-step, he flew straight at the castle, landing in the main courtyard before Touga had time to take a startled breath.

The redhead whirled and ran for the giant double doors. “Is everyone inside?”

The former students manning the doors nodded. “You’re the last one,” one of them said.

“Barricade it,” Touga snapped, not even slowing down as he wove through clumps of terrified servants. “Saionji!”

“What did you see?”

Now Touga paused, eyed Wakaba clinging to his arm, and mentally shrugged. “End of the World is coming. You know what he’s coming for.”

Saionji nodded grimly. “What do you want us to do?”

“Have the servants barricade themselves inside the rooms. They should be safe enough out of sight.”

“I’m not hiding,” Wakaba declared suddenly. “And I know some of the others won’t want to, either.”

Touga looked at her for a long moment. “You can’t fight swords.”

“I can get them stuck in a piece of wood,” the brunette countered.

“Fine. Everyone who wants to fight, arm yourselves with wood and try to stop as many of the swords as you can. Everyone else, hide and don’t come out until everything is quiet.”

Wakaba and Saionji nodded and ran back towards the barricade, which began to shudder under the strikes of the first swords, the ones which had bypassed the doors and flown in directly from the upper windows. Some of them got stuck, but it didn’t take long before a handful began to dart in like deadly silver fish. As he grabbed a footstool and began blocking swords, Touga wondered how long it would take before Akio arrived.

For the most part, getting the swords stuck in improvised wooden shields worked perfectly. The student-servants who chose to fight sustained only minor cuts and punctures when the blades went further through the wood than anticipated. They were taking out dozens, maybe hundreds of swords – but more kept coming.

Much sooner than he would have liked, the barricade splintered under the onslaught of hundreds of swords, and End of the World stepped through the gap. The swords flowed around him as though he were unworthy of their thirsty blades. Touga grabbed a decorative sword from the wall – a black-hilted longsword with a wide golden crossguard, not his usual weapon at all – and ran for the mirror corridor.

“Where are you going, Mister Student Council President?” the taller man called, sauntering insolently after him.

Touga didn’t bother to reply. At the start of the mirror corridor, he stopped and took a stand.

“My, my. Are you trying to be the Prince, protecting the Bride?”

“No,” the redhead spat. “I’m just a playboy pretending to be one. The real Prince is already with the Rose Bride.”

“Are you going to duel me for her, then?”

Touga smiled grimly, knowing which _her_ Akio meant and referring to the other one. “Yes, I am.”

                  *********************************************************

Inside the Rose room, Utena hurled herself once again at the unseen barrier keeping her from the girl who hung suspended in agony, eyes still closed despite the steel that violated her. Again, the barrier resisted all attempts to break through and hurled Utena into the wall with an electric backlash. She was close to crying with frustration when she heard the faint sounds of swords clashing in the mirror hallway. She picked herself up from the floor yet again and was about to investigate when the mirror on the door shattered. The door itself held for a few seconds before there was a splintering sound and a strange whistle, and then a sword flew down the short secret corridor. Utena ducked out of the way and watched in horror as it pierced the barrier and impaled the girl who hung in agony. It was followed by a second sword, then a third. With an inarticulate cry of denial, the pink-haired prince tried to block the swords, but they evaded her and circled up to the stained-glass rose before shooting down to take their inanimate vengeance on the girl whose eyes still remained closed even though she whimpered softly at each new injury.

Then, through the open door, Utena heard Touga cry out in pain.

Without a second thought she dashed down the hidden hallway, ignoring the swords that dodged her, drawing her own as she ran. As she burst out into the mirror corridor, Touga staggered back into sight. The longsword fell to the floor with a clang as his grip weakened, left hand pressed against the bloody wound just below his right shoulder.

“Touga!”

His eyes flicked over to her at her cry, but they returned immediately to the opponent who also took note of her presence. Green eyes narrowed at the blade in her hand, and just as he lunged, Touga flung himself at her. The strike which would have sliced diagonally across Utena’s chest cut into Touga’s back instead. He cried out again and collapsed heavily against Utena, who dropped the sword in favor of not dropping the redhead.

“Touga,” she moaned, lowering him gently to the floor. “Why did you-”

He lifted his left hand to her cheek, and smiled through the pain when she leaned into his touch. “Because that’s what a prince would do,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about me. You have a Princess to save.”

Utena nodded grimly, forcing herself to take his hand from her cheek. “Don’t die,” she told him fiercely, kissing his hand before placing it gently back on the bloody wound. “You better not die, because I love you.”

The defiant look in her eyes made his breath catch, and it was all he could do to nod. She looked around for the sword he’d given her, but the dark-skinned man had taken it on his way to the Rose room, and after a moment she grabbed the abandoned longsword instead.

At the end of the corridor, End of the World gazed thoughtfully at the sleeping face of his sister, then at the gleaming blade of the Sword of Dios. He ignored the swords that still streaked down the hall to add themselves to the collection already impaling her and raised the blade slowly, deliberately. Then, with a shout, he thrust the blade cleanly at her heart – only to have the barrier deflect it. Again he struck, and again, getting angrier as each slash and thrust were turned away by that unseen barrier.

“Get away from her!”

The angry demand made him turn his head in curiosity. Touga had said the Prince was with the Rose Bride, but the only one behind the mirror door had been this girl. Did the poor, cursed boy think this _girl_ was a Prince?

“Or what?” he asked, one lilac eyebrow raised questioningly.

In response, Utena charged. He met her halfway down the corridor and the blades met with a ringing clash. The stranger in white pinned her longsword to the wall, kneed her wrist, and then kicked her in the chest as the sword fell from her grip. She’d grabbed the hilt of his sheathed sword, however, and climbed to her feet with the dark mirror of her own sword in her hand. The irony wasn’t lost on Akio, and he laughed. Utena just charged him again.

Whether it was the more familiar shape and weight in her hand, or whether he was distracted by his amusement, she fought better and he had to actually work to defend himself. Her practice with Touga had improved her skill greatly, but the lilac-haired man was still the better swordsman and he pushed her step by step into the Rose room, backing her against that electric barrier.

As she screamed, body arched rigidly, he thrust the Sword of Dios neatly through her chest. He hoped her body would act to hold the blade still and let him finally break through, but the barrier held and the sword snapped less than a foot from the hilt. Utena was flung against the wall and slumped to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

“This is the Prince Touga fought so hard to protect? Pathetic,” he sneered, tossing the hilt of the Sword of Dios in her direction. “Your sword, _noble prince_.”

The man who had once been Dios turned and began walking away. Utena grabbed the broken end of the blade in her chest and pulled it slowly out, her breath coming in broken gasps and whimpers. She dropped the bloody steel and picked up the hilt of her sword, not caring that it was broken, and forced herself to her feet despite the battering she’d already taken and the blood flowing freely down her chest and back. One step. Two. Three. She leaned against the invisible barrier, ignoring the power coursing through her or the pain it brought, waiting for the discharge that would launch her directly at the dark-skinned man’s back.

“I _am_ a Prince,” she ground out, making him pause. He turned to look at her and his eyes widened in shock and – was that fear? “And I _will_ free her!”

The discharge came. Utena put everything she had left into the scream of rage that burst from her throat, the broken blade of the Sword of Dios aimed at his heart as she flew at him. He screamed, but he wasn’t looking at her.

The swords in the hallway stopped, frozen where they were. The ones that had already reached their destination quivered.

The Rose Bride opened her eyes.

The swords impaling her pulled themselves free and re-oriented, shooting unerringly at the girl once again charging recklessly at him. Her eyes held a determination he hadn’t seen in ages, not since Dios had been sealed away. He blinked, and then it wasn’t Utena flying at him, but a younger boy with lilac hair and green eyes.

He screamed again.

 


	18. Revolutionizing the world hurts

“…so they found all the missing students in the Chairman’s tower, and we all told them that the Acting Chairman had given us these rings and promised all kinds of things, and some of us talked about the castle, and they finally just put it down to us being kept drugged up. There were plenty of us who saw him with a sword, and the official story is that he went on a rampage and stabbed all his ‘prisoners’ before fleeing. No one was seriously hurt except for you and Touga, and he’s already been released.”

“How long have I been out?” Utena asked hoarsely, wincing at the pain in her throat and trying not to cough. She ached everywhere, and coughing would doubtless be agony - if she even had the strength to. The inclined hospital bed was the only thing letting her sit up, and even then, moving her head was more effort than it was worth.

“Three weeks,” Wakaba said, eyes showing hints of worry. “They just took the feeding tube out this morning. We were afraid you wouldn’t make it.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Everyone. All the doctors, the school officials, and all of Akio’s victims. _Especially_ us. We all know what you did.” There was a sound at the door, and Wakaba peered around the privacy curtain separating Utena’s bed from the rest of the small hospital room. “Oh! You have another visitor, so I’ll just go now.”

Utena started to reach for her friend’s hand, but stopped when she saw all the tubes attached to her arm. “Why do you have to go?”

Wakaba grinned. “You’re still in a delicate stage, they don’t want you to have more than one visitor at a time.”

“But I just woke up! Whoever it is can wait, I want to talk to you some more.”

“Sorry, Utena. I’ll be back tomorrow. Besides, I have to get ready. I have a date with Saionji tonight.”

That little tidbit was enough to ease the pain of her best friend leaving. “Alright. Have a good time, don’t stay out too late, and tell him I said ‘thank you’.”

“I will. “Wakaba leaned in for a careful half-hug. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

Utena watched wistfully as her friend ducked behind the curtain. After a moment, a bouquet of red roses entered her field of vision.

"I would have waited," a deep, velvety voice said mildly. Touga stepped forward where Utena could see him. "Anything for my noble prince."

Carefully, he laid the bouquet in her arms and took the chair Wakaba had been sitting in. Utena kept her eyes on the flowers.

"Touga...there's something I have to tell you."

The redhead held his breath, trying not to let his panic show.

"That time you told Saionji that the Playboy was gone..."

He swallowed. "Yes?"

"It wasn't Saionji. It was me"

She looked at him finally, the solemn apology in her eyes helping to kill the relieved laugh that bubbled up in his chest. Once, he would have been mortified to have confessed his weakness to her. But that was before he had broken his shell and been reborn.

"That explains why you were so patient with me," he murmured. "Now it's my turn to confess." _That_ startled her out of her serious expression. "That last morning, when you stroked my hair...I wasn't asleep."

Utena blushed.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "You gave me comfort when I needed it most and expected it least. You taught me the value of dreams. You freed me, and everyone else, from the curse. And you freed the Rose Bride. You truly _are_ a Prince."

"Is being a Prince supposed to hurt so much?" she asked dryly. "Because I sure don't feel like a Prince. I feel like I got used as a pincushion. I probably look like hell."

"You suffered multiple puncture wounds and lost a lot of blood," Touga said softly, one hand gently covering hers. "But you still look as lovely as a Princess to me."

"Flatterer," she said, but she was blushing again.

"I waited for you." His serious tone pulled her eyes up to his. "Everyone else was afraid you wouldn't make it, but I knew you would."

Utena swallowed painfully, wincing at her raw throat. "Why?"

"Because you said you'd come back for me."

She said nothing for a long minute, just stared thoughtfully at him. He wasn't hiding his feelings, but he didn't have that fragile vulnerability about him, either. He was calm, secure, confident. Strong.

Noble.

_Can't I be your prince?_

"Yes," she said, smiling a little as he blinked in confusion.

"Yes, what?" he asked, completely lost.

"I never gave you an answer, that last evening, in the dueling arena." Carefully, she twisted her hand around until she could curl her fingers weakly around his. "I'm not going to be much of a prince for a while." Her eyes wandered over the impressive assortment of medical equipment in the little room. "So, yes. You can be my prince." She wanted to laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face, but that would hurt too much, so she gave him a teasing smile instead. "...at least, until I get out of here. _Princess_."

Touga felt like he was going to burst if he didn't find a way to let some of this happiness out. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. And when he saw Utena's dry lips spread into a weaker, but equally ecstatic smile...well, there was only one part of his dream left unfulfilled.

Slowly, he ran the tip of one finger down the length of her left ring finger, watching for her reaction, smile slipping a little as she realized what was missing.

“The authorities confiscated all the Rose Crests.”

The keen blade of disappointment and loss bit into Utena. Even if the ring currently had some painful associations tied to it, it had still been almost a part of her for most of her life and her finger felt horribly naked without it.

“Utena…” Touga took a deep breath. “I know we’re both a bit young still, and it will be a few years before I can ask the question I really want to ask you. But for now…” he released her hand and dug out a small black box, opening it for her and holding it so that she could see the simple gold band crowned with the open shape of a delicate heart rather than a gem. “Will you accept this small token of my love, and my promise to do everything I can to remain worthy of you until that day?”

Utena swallowed again, wincing as the tightness of her throat made the act even more painful. She nodded, hoping she wouldn’t cry. At least, not without some serious painkillers. Touga moved the roses to a vase on the table next to her; she could just barely see it out of the corner of her eye, and wondered if he’d brought her flowers when she was still unconscious. He set the ring box next to the vase and removed its precious contents gently. Her heart pounded as he took her left hand slid the gold band onto her ring finger, somehow unsurprised that it fit perfectly. When he was done, he let go only reluctantly to sit down again and Utena cursed her weakened state for not letting her hold onto his hand.

Touga glanced into Utena’s eyes and froze at the look of adoration there. Was this what she’d seen when he’d lowered his guard in the castle? If so, no wonder his confession in the dueling arena hadn’t come as a surprise.

“I love you, Touga,” she whispered.

He had to remind himself that if he pulled her into his arms the way he wanted to, not only would he be causing her pain, but the doctors would ban him from her room. Instead, he exerted the self-control he’d honed breaking out of the Playboy shell, and kissed her gently, tenderly, feeling her tremble beneath his hands. The reason for her trembling became apparent as the hand that wasn’t tethered to the machines by tubes brushed his cheek briefly. He caught her hand in his and held it in place, eyes slipping closed at the pleasure of feeling her touch once again. This time, he did not release her hand when he sat down.

“I love you,” he murmured, voice almost a purr.

Utena smiled – a gentle, brilliant smile that made him want to melt under its warmth – and then yawned, wincing at the motion. He reached out and smoothed her hair away from her temple the way she had with his, smiling at the way her eyelids fluttered closed the way his had.

“Sleep, noble prince,” he said softly. “I’ll protect you.”

She gave him a tired smile and closed her eyes. In less than a minute, her head tilted limply to the side and her breathing slowed. Touga watched her sleep, marveling at how much his life had been improved by the curse. Maybe he should send Mikage a nice thank-you note? He chuckled to himself, remembering the sour pink-haired man and his quest for eternity. The laugh dried up as he remembered Akio and his all-consuming drive to gain the power to revolutionize the world.

Touga smiled and gently stroked the hair of his sleeping prince. Screw eternity and power, he had Utena.

 


End file.
